tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64144594348421640522024-03-05T07:28:49.921-07:00The Seeley FamilyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-52991429973745115812012-08-06T19:07:00.001-07:002012-08-06T19:07:11.654-07:00Packardfamily.comHello family, friends, strangers, and whoever else cares. This blog is officially dubbed "anemic," and I find it difficult to nourish it adequately. For this, I apologize. I have emerged to announce the existence of a more important blog in my life (To blog: sorry babe...it was a fun run, but I needed something more substantial and everlasting) that I wanted to tell you about!<br />
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Preface:<br />
My parents, after many long and hard years of constant sacrifice (which they will always respond "It was SO worth it" to) have finally decided to dedicate an acceptable amount of their time and energies on themselves. They have begun a health journey, and a remarkably successful one, at that. Much of their journey has been inspired by Joel Furhman's book "Eat to Live," which I have blogged about before. After just 3.5 weeks, both of my parents have lost a substantial amount of weight, and (in one case) are beginning to discover their passion for fitness/exercise! They have inspired many, including myself, and we have decided to open up a family blog together, 1. to keep us accountable to the whole word and 2. to have a closer tie throughout this process. It is probably one of the most rewarding blogging experiences I have encountered thus far, and I am so excited about it's progress.<br />
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The URL for this website is simply <a href="http://packardfamily.com/">packardfamily.com</a>.<br />
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If you wish to see more frequent updates from me as well as my parents, please visit this site. I assure you it will be worth your while. :) Also, any encouraging words/tips/words of advice are certainly welcome as comments!<br />
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TTFN!<br />
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AmberAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-57752945599952407082012-03-29T19:55:00.000-07:002012-03-29T19:55:23.727-07:00The Worst Part<br />
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End of March...that lovely time of year where the flowers begin to grow and
the weather turns simply divine. It's perfect for a game of ultimate frisbee, a
picnic, a bike ride, [insert amazingly fun outdoor activity.]<br />
<br />
End of March...that lovely time of year where finals are looming and
research projects/thesis papers are threatening to demolish all that a student
has worked so hard for this year. It's perfect for banging one’s head against the
computer/practice room door. What better time of year to live out of a vending
machine and poison your body with processed foods galore?<br />
<br />
The worst part? Gazing at the mountains. No joke. I mean, doesn’t this
picture just SCREAM “hike me”? It’s not fair, really, that they make BYU campus
so gorgeous this time of year, only to taunt a slave driven student from the
library windows.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0Provo, UT, USA40.2338438 -111.658533740.136867800000005 -111.8164622 40.3308198 -111.50060520000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-79304305026913292342012-03-26T18:00:00.002-07:002012-03-26T19:03:38.209-07:00Washington DC--pinch me!<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The second part of my weekend journey was to Washington DC to visit my aunts Esther and Sabrina and their amazing families. My dad and I got back from the Broadway show pretty late (after sampling one of the hot dogs at a hot dog stands…I thought it was nasty, but at least we know what they taste like) and so we got about 3 hours of sleep before we had to wake up, get out of the hotel, and get our booties to the bus stop in NY. Our hotel was in Newark, NJ, which is only about a 30 minute shuttle ride from NYC, or a 1 ½ hour journey through the metro/train/air rails. It was about a $30 difference for each of us so we decided to take it the hard way. We’re warriors!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When we finally got into NYC, we were once again surprised to encounter so many kind individuals who were more than happy to help us get to where we needed to go. I don’t care what they say about New York people…they are really nice!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After a 4 hour bus ride of trying to sleep but not really succeeding, we finally arrived in Bethesda. My aunt Esther and her family picked us up there and we went straight to the Smithsonian. I didn’t realize there were so many museums in “The Smithsonian.” There are like, 10 different buildings all surrounding this huge park. The park provided for some good views of monuments, although there were so many people that it was difficult to catch everything into a picture.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6GuA39dvKw9WT1CzU5Tal0BSXPTbiQ5IuyrK2K1KFwZf5xnjWltwpxeEhDEa9sA8htBd3_ofdqTnJ33DSX6u8etQhkb30MI2xD7DLfK20ATTeryfg9Mcll5BdcFtRZNc1RevlLz3U74/s1600/IMG_0117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6GuA39dvKw9WT1CzU5Tal0BSXPTbiQ5IuyrK2K1KFwZf5xnjWltwpxeEhDEa9sA8htBd3_ofdqTnJ33DSX6u8etQhkb30MI2xD7DLfK20ATTeryfg9Mcll5BdcFtRZNc1RevlLz3U74/s320/IMG_0117.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My dad has a theory that you can only experience the true taste of a city when you try the food from hole-in-the-wall joints or hot dog stands. The real citizens of the city who are trying to make a buck to live to the next day—that’s what is real; none of that chain restaurant veneer. Nasty? Slightly unsanitary? Maybe. Authentic? Definitely! Here is a video of my dad experiencing the “true taste of Washington DC.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwxhUljpIXKXpVDACb0PRtcWEwarsItYF7o2oCk8HctQ97IHtlquRPcB1C6S7z_UDKUJ2iUUUMHzDaDDmrShg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Since we only had about 3 hours, we spent our time in the Air and Space Museum, the Museum of Natural History, and the Holocaust Museum. As we entered each building, there were different modes of security. The Holocaust Museum, however, had the most intense security out of all of them. If you had a bottle of water in your purse, they made you drink out of it in front of them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbCgtRqzJ3Ae_xsPryXxRMTc-TYMU_q4bjrl6XKBKu9VbN9CQclGzOQxRCr2o1GEyidSVUeOBat5yO1jEhjohm1BSvVAaD3FT0X5UooyVemh4b8zVnrvk_iZmzLfclQiQrL8X2sSA7CA/s1600/IMG_0108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbCgtRqzJ3Ae_xsPryXxRMTc-TYMU_q4bjrl6XKBKu9VbN9CQclGzOQxRCr2o1GEyidSVUeOBat5yO1jEhjohm1BSvVAaD3FT0X5UooyVemh4b8zVnrvk_iZmzLfclQiQrL8X2sSA7CA/s320/IMG_0108.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Esther's little girls</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmob8FVW8Rmmtceym31JYB4h_XnYDkK6MaH4en1Q_FWRnoLyIQcvCYnZ-jeHBIKrdnGwRnPvHAPTNyLcY4etD8-8s-1bKfx58wyoU2aw97Ws3wY4CAI3yIhUtfBSEyijkEWLlHPpSnXLw/s1600/IMG_0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmob8FVW8Rmmtceym31JYB4h_XnYDkK6MaH4en1Q_FWRnoLyIQcvCYnZ-jeHBIKrdnGwRnPvHAPTNyLcY4etD8-8s-1bKfx58wyoU2aw97Ws3wY4CAI3yIhUtfBSEyijkEWLlHPpSnXLw/s320/IMG_0112.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One really cool thing about the Holocaust Museum is that they gave you individual passport IDs of someone who lived during the Holocaust and you got to follow their story throughout your venture. What a good way to keep people involved!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_wQzE3VO3tklt6eQ2vwUPmYoBnUCh1rqiUryUag_TlTjbVPwvQgBYsuZJrzf6W0bzjF3WKlpy4CgSUR7QXkQ8pxQ-DecwyYneqCMM0R3Oy_a8v7_vid7wlk6q7PF_piBqyOALjuYyGU/s1600/IMG_0122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_wQzE3VO3tklt6eQ2vwUPmYoBnUCh1rqiUryUag_TlTjbVPwvQgBYsuZJrzf6W0bzjF3WKlpy4CgSUR7QXkQ8pxQ-DecwyYneqCMM0R3Oy_a8v7_vid7wlk6q7PF_piBqyOALjuYyGU/s320/IMG_0122.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We weren’t supposed to take pictures of what we saw, and maybe that was a good thing. Seeing the videos and reading the stories…that was really hard. I was in a funk for a good while afterwards. It’s amazing what a corrupted leader can do to destroy the world. To be honest, I usually get bored with museums after the first hour. But I could have stayed in there all day if they hadn’t closed—exhaustion and all. I’m going to Germany on part of my European tour with the Wind Symphony in a few weeks. Re-connecting with the history of the country will be good for my experience there I think.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It was so good to catch up with my amazing aunts. They have both been my dear friends all my life, but especially through my early college years when I really needed it. Love you Esther and Sabrina! I’m upset that I didn’t get any pictures with them though. I think it might have been because I was intimidated by Esther’s mad photography skills. <a href="http://estherbattisti.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Check out her website</a> to see what I mean. She’s amazing!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This has definitely been a trip that I'll remember forever. Thank you Dad for coming with me! </span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-80250008116510391212012-03-24T21:20:00.001-07:002012-03-24T21:23:56.201-07:00Three Bucks, Two Bags, One Me<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve been dying to blog about this trip forever! Sadly, graduate school has me by the throat and I’ve got my paper in a headlock so there’s a little bit of hustle and bustle. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I went to NYC to take a flute lesson with Carol Wincenc, flute professor at Juilliard! I’m still kicking myself for not getting a picture with her, but I still think that would have been a little weird to ask. Her personality was such, however, that I think she would have totally been cool with it. Oh well.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My daddy came with me on the trip, since Matt and I couldn’t afford two plane tickets for both of us to go. It was good to spend some daddy daughter time though! He sure made it a fun trip. You see, my dad has a way with people that melts their hearts. I don’t think there are many people in the world that don’t adore this man.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTMmY8tki9Uic35488sK1RjXxsxhtSQ-s3wtwWAzSgAxNP4I69tSPzK5BBcfEw3MlJpiDibhgYHKaONvCk7SJJsRz9PT2n3Qz1jDQtAzIfz6i0tkhSjJxclCAPDCjZ-pXXGtrWDhB0Xk/s1600/IMG_0085.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTMmY8tki9Uic35488sK1RjXxsxhtSQ-s3wtwWAzSgAxNP4I69tSPzK5BBcfEw3MlJpiDibhgYHKaONvCk7SJJsRz9PT2n3Qz1jDQtAzIfz6i0tkhSjJxclCAPDCjZ-pXXGtrWDhB0Xk/s320/IMG_0085.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He was a small town chap in a city about 5 sizes too big for him. (I could definitely say the same thing about myself.) Any time we turned a corner, it felt like we were lost, though we were equipped with about 3 different maps, and NY is a grid system just like Utah. Regardless, my dad seemed to find comfort in inquiring upon every passerby we came in contact with if we were going the right way. Most of the people, if not all, thought he was so cute. They were ever so helpful, which is NOT what I expected. He would start out, “Hi. We’re new here, and we’re trying to get to Juilliard. Could you please help us?” How could you say no to that? Southern manners really do conquer all, y’all. Just sayin’.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On our walk around New York, we saw some pretty interesting <i>things</i>...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlY-cjZ46bAqEt8vTccPrFPHZasuuKDKV6HPRTiSmhUf7L4d88GNjX-KearGENjamttzdZ23WbZctw-Hs2WLFF6PQRnM0-MU16Rb62xlHeCZoDlMsoiUlN0bj9o19qJxE-P5gSMPt4BY/s1600/IMG_0080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjlY-cjZ46bAqEt8vTccPrFPHZasuuKDKV6HPRTiSmhUf7L4d88GNjX-KearGENjamttzdZ23WbZctw-Hs2WLFF6PQRnM0-MU16Rb62xlHeCZoDlMsoiUlN0bj9o19qJxE-P5gSMPt4BY/s320/IMG_0080.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And <i>people</i>.</span><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We had to get a few tourist shots…luckily we weren’t the only ones with honking big cameras, so we felt a little more adventurous with taking pictures.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-gROYqLXxm6WFevLLhvY7fm4_x0rYRuxQyxThSk-xooNXEby2VC94XbcaC4fvypmmNMj5rLcau4pfhx-kwNw92-wBWfDTnzEFdDQxfvU1ZODV7KJeqZ8bCtJBuKDEw4GCNp3Km6uCoE/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-gROYqLXxm6WFevLLhvY7fm4_x0rYRuxQyxThSk-xooNXEby2VC94XbcaC4fvypmmNMj5rLcau4pfhx-kwNw92-wBWfDTnzEFdDQxfvU1ZODV7KJeqZ8bCtJBuKDEw4GCNp3Km6uCoE/s320/IMG_0100.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It was only embarrassing about 40% of the time. </span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The lesson with Carol Wincenc was the most amazing lesson I think I’ve ever had. She sure gave me a workout! (It was a good thing, because I paid a pretty penny for it…SO worth it though.) I played the Foss Renaissance Concerto for her, a piece that she premiered back in the 80s. She seemed pretty impressed with what she’s seen from Utah musicians so far, so I was glad to help with the reputation the best I could. I must say, it’s not every day that I see that kind of energy coming from someone who’s been in the industry that long! It was truly inspiring.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGOREB8RhDeG3QT7iYFbhSdalWkmfBhHQU4z_AGZU-KLCGTREvCfhl8yxmetOJWJFB2AQrnhV-Ub4aEO_W1NrzCuWk5pFcD9hUE14QGkqrRBU8SAOnc6GapjDWVH0NMQGH-_EgnKiC9w/s1600/IMG_0096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkGOREB8RhDeG3QT7iYFbhSdalWkmfBhHQU4z_AGZU-KLCGTREvCfhl8yxmetOJWJFB2AQrnhV-Ub4aEO_W1NrzCuWk5pFcD9hUE14QGkqrRBU8SAOnc6GapjDWVH0NMQGH-_EgnKiC9w/s320/IMG_0096.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will also say that I think I like the BYU practice rooms a little bit better, but that’s New York for you: charming as all get out, but really, really old.</span><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">After the flute lesson, my dad and I went to see a show on Broadway. The caliber of performers in New York is like none other. The MDT men were all super buff (which surprised me), and everybody could sing, dance, and act wonderfully. I’m so glad we went!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzk63LLmsLCz4JnAFnGhSmX8OOcHsn2Ban91kbzt2XBlzMW5wurrBRuMoe-6ykDMDb8MTIt1gtdKXGuCDudr5bpMDcG6iB07WXLJBUhAD7O1A1yZfz7b41Y35d57avBWbH2llq4Lctp6g/s1600/rsz_img_0104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzk63LLmsLCz4JnAFnGhSmX8OOcHsn2Ban91kbzt2XBlzMW5wurrBRuMoe-6ykDMDb8MTIt1gtdKXGuCDudr5bpMDcG6iB07WXLJBUhAD7O1A1yZfz7b41Y35d57avBWbH2llq4Lctp6g/s320/rsz_img_0104.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I officially love New York. I can see why there are so many songs written about the city, and no, I don’t think it’s overrated in any way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite city? </span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-39886017375584074222012-03-19T16:00:00.002-07:002012-03-23T19:03:09.774-07:00Dopps Props<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So, I’m confused. Is Doppelganger week something that happens every year? Or was it just something that happened a few years ago that everybody and their chihuahua participated in a few years back?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyway, I’m beginning to see a resurge of Doppelganger, and to enlighten all ye folk who are convinced that I do not have one, think again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH129X024GmRTkWsPp4cf-YLgFiN9gIMDUhviSOFRE9XhbG8GnolEgOawcKsz9QJgHsedwLmnuSAzKkMY-JCOh4rlfQPhTHChO4IT2duROkoriy1pG9Y7q5THHyB9EfjGsyShBmZGsOio/s1600/buffy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH129X024GmRTkWsPp4cf-YLgFiN9gIMDUhviSOFRE9XhbG8GnolEgOawcKsz9QJgHsedwLmnuSAzKkMY-JCOh4rlfQPhTHChO4IT2duROkoriy1pG9Y7q5THHyB9EfjGsyShBmZGsOio/s320/buffy.jpg" width="308" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cullens, watch your back. And tell all your vampire associates to stop seducing girls who are way too young for them. It wouldn’t be bad advice for you either.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m dying to know, who is your Doppelganger? I actually do research these things…</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-14758470974698314602012-03-18T19:00:00.007-07:002012-03-18T19:00:01.488-07:00Springtime MotivationsOMG I had so much fun the other day! A really close friend of the family, Tiffany, told me about a jean sale she was hosting at her house. When I got the text I thought, "I never go to any of these things anymore. It's time for a change." So I went. And I'm so glad I did!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipxV79X1am4PAbbA3uZHoWmgtqnxVDs5pxaPqHclqIx6S-w_iMSHIzobgcYJ3xCVJyRD-OUhAhwIRuEIrVBGBDH3rf29VcRA1vIXRTs31st3YDuk_r_we2UUMj6oX5ApfGQwqaChpXqNI/s1600/IMG_0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipxV79X1am4PAbbA3uZHoWmgtqnxVDs5pxaPqHclqIx6S-w_iMSHIzobgcYJ3xCVJyRD-OUhAhwIRuEIrVBGBDH3rf29VcRA1vIXRTs31st3YDuk_r_we2UUMj6oX5ApfGQwqaChpXqNI/s320/IMG_0070.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
These are LA Idol shorts (I think...I don't care what brand they are...I just thought they were cute!) and I got some capris just like them! The buttons have massive rhinestones on them, which I LOVE.While I was trying them on at Tiffany's house, I took off my wedding ring so it wouldn't get chafed on the rhinestones as I was putting the jeans on. I left it there, but didn't realize it until right before orchestra rehearsal when I was in the restroom. I thought I had flushed it down the toilet! Thank goodness Tiffany found it for me (cue: swallow heart), and we had an excuse to go back later that night to pick it up and hang out for a while. They are such fun people! My "Gaston" was able to do his Beauty and the Beast impression and I think it was a hit! (Like always.) I love having a theatrical husband. :)<br />
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Another bonus--I was finally motivated to buy some new shoes (due to the jean sale and this gorgeous weather.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKFWRk9-gk2kHkofOvEWNqt6IlRu8v82drorun-o-P3_Bdw-MuSr4cmJwj6JjAIw2cyNBmiAXn2VgjM-xYmKqwNBCEIev88OuNaGTGGV4RwcpaphWcNs5IkKmhbGxnp2yBIQaO20U89w/s1600/IMG_0071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKFWRk9-gk2kHkofOvEWNqt6IlRu8v82drorun-o-P3_Bdw-MuSr4cmJwj6JjAIw2cyNBmiAXn2VgjM-xYmKqwNBCEIev88OuNaGTGGV4RwcpaphWcNs5IkKmhbGxnp2yBIQaO20U89w/s320/IMG_0071.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Yes, I'm pasty. Maybe this will be a chain reaction for me to spend some time outside gettin' me some gooooood vitamin D. <br />
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The shoes and the shorts are a little teeny-bopper, I know, but I guess that's sort of my style. Maybe I'll grow up one day.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-63396227475868653422012-03-17T09:18:00.001-07:002012-03-17T09:18:00.635-07:00Grocery Store Therapy<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I don’t know what it is about grocery stores, but consistently they fill me with such peace. Sometimes I go to grocery stores just to meditate. I feel domestic, in a good way. It brings me back to when I was a young child, and my mom would take me with her to “run on the arronds” and I would examine all of the beautiful colors of the fresh produce, smell the delectable scents from the bakery, and usually get a gumball if I behaved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkk4ZTecOhFa2YNA8tA0eaz2zZmGmnnp0Z6lxwCQhOvCIstJLj9gTz7CFL8-ms-8BPg_FnyBEftCtimrCA-qUBsiHEU-ib6qJofW_G4UacXypW0flK40mhVEbV2zkboahhqA9Powk1Hjk/s1600/grocery+store.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkk4ZTecOhFa2YNA8tA0eaz2zZmGmnnp0Z6lxwCQhOvCIstJLj9gTz7CFL8-ms-8BPg_FnyBEftCtimrCA-qUBsiHEU-ib6qJofW_G4UacXypW0flK40mhVEbV2zkboahhqA9Powk1Hjk/s320/grocery+store.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes, when I’m on an aisle where nobody is looking, I’ll run with my cart and ride it for a while. Deep down I know that there are security cameras watching everything I’m doing, but I don’t care. I’m a child again. All of my worries and responsibilities are gone. I get to focus on nothing else besides the delicious meal that I’m about to make.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I don’t know how much fun grocery shopping will be when I have screaming babies hanging on me for dear life. Maybe I’ll bribe them with gumballs.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-19085246088814592202012-03-14T18:00:00.002-07:002012-03-14T18:00:04.175-07:00That Girl<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes I really wish I could bring my camera into the gym with me and not look like a creeper.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All too often I see “that girl.” You know, the one who is going to meet her prince charming at the gym. She struts into the gym with all kinds of swagger wearing her hot pink sports bra and playboy spandex, appears almost char-coaled from tanning, and is wearing…hoop earrings? Wait…wouldn’t that hurt if you were going to exercise? Little do I know, she apparently doesn’t plan on exercising.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I decide to stretch a little longer by the yoga balls to see what she does next. Every time, without fail, “that girl” gets on a treadmill or some other cardio device, lightly jogs for about 8 minutes, stretches for about 5 minutes, looks around for someone to approach her, and then leaves. I guess today just wasn’t her day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m all for looking great when you exercise. After all, it can motivate you to work harder. But come to the gym to work out, people! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytJV7upKV56qHtkGfI5TJJWsLkU_NEtJl6zYo3E2HpPYQB0JCfCyOLbQlK5ZIuq2wqv2sXlyJjfMqddSqnRwDaeX1yCknjZL_JoUxTLcJ0SKAHEFO0kr6bS39AlJRFk97U19iHViYRz8/s1600/no+earrings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytJV7upKV56qHtkGfI5TJJWsLkU_NEtJl6zYo3E2HpPYQB0JCfCyOLbQlK5ZIuq2wqv2sXlyJjfMqddSqnRwDaeX1yCknjZL_JoUxTLcJ0SKAHEFO0kr6bS39AlJRFk97U19iHViYRz8/s200/no+earrings.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In my observations, “that girl” never finds what she’s looking for.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Gym people are so entertaining sometimes.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-51206076518444551882012-03-13T18:00:00.000-07:002012-03-13T18:00:03.213-07:00Pocket Classics<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For those of you who have not heard of this incredible literary tool, now is the time! My husband, who is very proud of his complete 72-book-set, has opened my eyes to a busy woman’s solution to becoming more informed of classic books’ story lines. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Like many of you, one of the many reasons I don’t read more is because I don’t <strike>have</strike> make enough time. Another reason is that these sometimes humungous books they call the “classics” are somewhat intimidating and scream “COMMITMENT!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was talking to a friend the other day, and she was reading a book about how you don’t have to necessarily commit to finish every book that you pick up and start reading. There is no law against deciding that you don’t want to finish a book. Who would have thought? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You</i> can decide whether or not the book is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">worth</i> finishing. It kind of goes against the idealistic view of “finishing what you start,” and I am not dogging on the merit of that statement! I just choose to look at this as granting yourself with more agency over your time. That way, you can look at a book and not be afraid of what you might be sacrificing by picking it up. You might be more inclined to read more! (Other ideas on how to make reading more efficient are mentioned in another friend’s blog, <a href="http://thestorygirlbookreviews.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Story Girl</a>. You should check it out!)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Another solution instead of simply putting a book down forever is the Pocket Classic solution. These are short, 50 page little comic books that tell the story line of major books (which are often asked for on summer reading lists for high schoolers) in a fun, easy to read way. They can literally fit in your pocket (if you squish them a little…) You can skim through one of these in like 45 minutes, decide if you like it or not, and invest in reading the thorough version later if you want! If nothing else, you won’t feel like an idiot at the next dinner party when literary people are discussing esoteric book language. You’ll most likely be able to at least keep up. Spark notes were always a godsend, but these are so much more cute and entertaining! Not to mention, they’re great for kids!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIokKJOkns3LbDuUpa0RMgfrin8zDef4TW6z4qe08fLkPoEwSNv8xumoMu-VJVo77KQxVfMMz0RZa9YxrB5uXSwyjlCi5G6hUHma0ULXYMX_Xe9qcKOe0Ywd6uYuHij-WklhUqMhQeA2M/s1600/pocket+classics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIokKJOkns3LbDuUpa0RMgfrin8zDef4TW6z4qe08fLkPoEwSNv8xumoMu-VJVo77KQxVfMMz0RZa9YxrB5uXSwyjlCi5G6hUHma0ULXYMX_Xe9qcKOe0Ywd6uYuHij-WklhUqMhQeA2M/s320/pocket+classics.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I don’t think these books are in print any more, but we were able to find a lot of them on Craigslist and eBay. Enjoy!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-35673486065663603952012-03-12T18:26:00.001-07:002012-03-13T08:39:51.183-07:00Do What You Love<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This is a phrase I have heard time and time again. “Do what you love.” Up until now, though, I don’t think I have fully internalized what this means.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Part of the reason it has been hard for me to blog as consistently as I used to is because I don’t know how personal I should be about my life on the internet. I’m still figuring that out, but here is a little piece of me that I don’t usually share with people unless I am face-to-face with them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When I was in high school, I always knew I wanted to become great at the flute. So, that’s what college was going to be about for me—becoming great at the flute. Needless to say, it has been so much more than that, for which I am grateful. What kept me going through all the hard times was that I was “doing what I loved.” No matter how tired I was or how much I was sacrificing my health to be the best I could be, I was doing it because I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">loved </i>it…right?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One thing that I have come to understand (through experience, mind you…I wouldn’t listen to people when they didn’t tell me what was fun to hear) is that what you become great at, what you do all day every day, what you career is—that’s work. Sure, it can definitely be enjoyable and can fill you with inspiration, but to become great at something, you have to pay the price. Once you decide to pay that price, it stops being your hobby. It’s hard work. There’s no way around it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When I was a TA for physical science, my boss would tell me (in my moments of frustration with my major…she was a great psychologist) is that in order for me to stay motivated in music while working this hard is to do something that I really enjoy doing, just for the sake of loving life. It seems counter-intuitive, really, to sacrifice valuable practice hours to take time and smell the roses for a bit every day (or every week…whatever you can manage) to actually become <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">better</i> at what you do. It didn’t make sense to me. However, I have come to realize that when I maintain a hobby outside of my specialty, I am much happier with myself.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Do what you love. Don’t turn what you love into a job, unless you want it to be your job. Then find something else that you love and do it often.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I want to apologize for being so negative about my graduate school experience so far. After thinking this over, I see that in order to savor these moments, I have to make sure that I am doing what I love, at least some of the time. Don’t get me wrong—I love the flute. It’s just important to have an out.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Do what you love!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuQt_jEH9bT_fgOZfnJpEfXv8ZirCIf0k3na2-C30g-f7PGKAU65CEIQ0vBGbWT2rnDdt25o76Q3P1tVWiiAUgX5wx_IEEDKTfvCcLmoV3vhIujYOP-RP3MNWOBzFY30Zc6xCjtkJlTw/s1600/blue+pen.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuQt_jEH9bT_fgOZfnJpEfXv8ZirCIf0k3na2-C30g-f7PGKAU65CEIQ0vBGbWT2rnDdt25o76Q3P1tVWiiAUgX5wx_IEEDKTfvCcLmoV3vhIujYOP-RP3MNWOBzFY30Zc6xCjtkJlTw/s320/blue+pen.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’m sure every one of you out there has some little quirk about yourselves that if you actually took the time to think about it, you would think you’re pretty weird. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One said quirk came out when I was teaching one of my flute students (which is unfortunately, no rare occurrence) and I was trying to write a change of schedule down in my planner. I had about 2 pencils in front of me, and I dug around in my purse to try and find a pen. I found one, but it was a black pen. I was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">well</i> equipped in that moment to make my written memo. For some reason, however, I really really wanted to find my blue pen. As I kept digging, I became more and more anxious. No blue pen….no blue pen…eek! My posture turned primal and I delved into my purse like a ravenous cheetah. Luckily, the blue pen eventually turned up and my heart rate returned to normal. Code red…off.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After taking a look at my somewhat confused student, I realized how absurd that must have looked. Thinking about the situation, I now realize that I have always had a fixation for blue pens as opposed to black ones. Don’t ask me why.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Cheers to blue inked pens!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-587195403334348652012-02-26T22:56:00.000-07:002012-02-26T22:56:24.112-07:00Grad School ExperienceLook what I get to read!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XdvxqVVwpK3txycOLWkJPkagC5Cr6ITO_EENd0nlmDDafk9TGWlEGcg3B6dKUyc5r22SU2HJYERf7kMghAegMRcf_T8zAIpdpt6LNhiJmMbI8pJ-peULVFguKVQ1cy-e0ilvDJ7vMLo/s1600/IMG_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XdvxqVVwpK3txycOLWkJPkagC5Cr6ITO_EENd0nlmDDafk9TGWlEGcg3B6dKUyc5r22SU2HJYERf7kMghAegMRcf_T8zAIpdpt6LNhiJmMbI8pJ-peULVFguKVQ1cy-e0ilvDJ7vMLo/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
This month's feat is to write a 15 page paper for my pedagogy <strike>desk</strike> class. Sorry, I'm distracted by my messy desk. One of the many adventures of being a graduate student is to wrestle your desk into submission...sometimes you win, sometimes your desk wins. I suppose it could be worse.<br />
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Not only do I need to write a 15 page paper for my pedagogy class, but I also have to write a 20 page paper for my researching the recital class this semester. Lucky me! On top of that, my oral exams are next semester, and I'm supposed to be a master of all flute pedagogues, literature, mechanical developments, and a master of everything else having to do with music. From what I understand, at the end of next semester, I will have two sessions of standing before intimidating Juilliard graduates for 2 hours, telling them everything I know about music. Everything. If I fail this exam, my degree is over, and I receive no diploma. No pressure, right?<br />
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So I decided to catch up on some light reading each day. Don't you wish you had my life? Oh and the best part is that I have to find time to practice my flute. It's kind of bizarre how I can play my flute for 9 hours a day, and yet only take credit for 2 of them toward my "official practice hours." I'm like a lawyer, scrounging for "billable hours." I never thought I would be able to relate my life to the legal field so closely.<br />
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A few pictures showed up on facebook that describe my experience so far quite concisely.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZh88P385jLzGu_81RGhop2-TrRM4si2RW7r4FjOhtmhDCUIHy_KqMCMEry0JMf4lc7hQm546SuxeXUN1JlMUv4AbW28Go-jhaP0wrflOpYJwevpBEhllCRnNHwUaVGKmdc-y5L_mnNY/s1600/musicians.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZh88P385jLzGu_81RGhop2-TrRM4si2RW7r4FjOhtmhDCUIHy_KqMCMEry0JMf4lc7hQm546SuxeXUN1JlMUv4AbW28Go-jhaP0wrflOpYJwevpBEhllCRnNHwUaVGKmdc-y5L_mnNY/s320/musicians.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Jef8U_P5pgf0Ao0dWrmSla7pedlu_kSQ5ik5mlrzEOtEgING2PHKSOKFQxbzTGDPjgof6eUcwtyYcuA4aEoz2gjZZW-1yXWlyla4cF-37DcgYJ0HHaW8Sq-BGvaUSKUdGw41UIdZCC4/s1600/grad+school.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Jef8U_P5pgf0Ao0dWrmSla7pedlu_kSQ5ik5mlrzEOtEgING2PHKSOKFQxbzTGDPjgof6eUcwtyYcuA4aEoz2gjZZW-1yXWlyla4cF-37DcgYJ0HHaW8Sq-BGvaUSKUdGw41UIdZCC4/s320/grad+school.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Maybe when I graduate I will be able to blog more. I won't say that this experience hasn't brought to pass a fair number of meltdowns. I also won't say that I'm able to get enough sleep or be the most cheerful person for my darling husband 100% of the time. However, when this is all done, I'm bound to be one proud woman.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-73128020212099589002012-01-07T20:28:00.000-07:002012-01-07T20:30:55.573-07:00This Little WifeyThis little wifey went to the market.<br />
<br />
This little wifey came home.<br />
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This little wifey made freezer meals on a Saturday that will make life SO much easier for a wannabe healthy couple with limited time!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPVu0CLmFI4ZtygoucWu70bqN7R-9y4klGZh8GHaP8MWnzaXgdXJwK0jPkeOS35PEmPuleBRXmUAkt3Ra7fllb7XNWYo2tXjjtpT2yDNZMwFMWSZ5BWsqQfcv36sNY2qLwz7c__-auxI/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPVu0CLmFI4ZtygoucWu70bqN7R-9y4klGZh8GHaP8MWnzaXgdXJwK0jPkeOS35PEmPuleBRXmUAkt3Ra7fllb7XNWYo2tXjjtpT2yDNZMwFMWSZ5BWsqQfcv36sNY2qLwz7c__-auxI/s320/IMG_0056.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Meals above include <a href="http://mamaandbabylove.blogspot.com/2011/05/moroccan-lamb-italian-beef-and.html" target="_blank">Cranberry Chicken</a>, Taco Soup, and Beef Stew. I as the cook have the power to control what ingredients/spices/organic content goes into my meals, AND I get to save tons of time! On the day that I want to cook something, I just thaw it out the night before (optional) or I just throw it in the slow cooker and hit "start." How cool is that?!<br />
<br />
Thanks to my dear sweet mother-in-law who provided me with such a cookbook for Christmas, I am able to spend one day in the kitchen that will last Matt and I an entire week (or more!) Thank you Chris!!! Also, a huge thanks to my sisters-in-law who gave me a new camera for Christmas! I will now be more motivated to blog about my life.<br />
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Disclaimer: I have not tried any of these dishes yet. I was going to wait to post about them until I tried them to see if they were any good, but I couldn't wait! Besides, my blog HAS been quite pathetic these last few months.<br />
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Happy New Year! And cheers to resolutions of being more efficient with time!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-22766931063223881882011-10-18T07:44:00.000-07:002011-10-18T07:44:28.220-07:00Eat to Live--ThoughtsSo, a bunch of my family members and a few close friends have been recommending this book to me for a long time. Now, I'm NOT a fan of diets, or anything fad-like for that matter. I think it's all about businesses...businesses wanting to scam the well-meaning American who just wants to take care of their body. Nope. My fitness advice was coming from common sense, nutrition textbooks, and maybe OCCASIONALLY the Biggest Loser Show.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzHtuWOeIntHKn56A_S6JXyoQI7t63g4F3Kt2oz0lyl46MXuRW7FUKA2yfNXplM_YKsiRuHY8Wgj-MvCI71IX3dJ6WaHV0XSrmccTRko4MCLNwr61Y9FpS9z1WTMq64sXCUFH4cUew9w/s1600/eat+to+live.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzHtuWOeIntHKn56A_S6JXyoQI7t63g4F3Kt2oz0lyl46MXuRW7FUKA2yfNXplM_YKsiRuHY8Wgj-MvCI71IX3dJ6WaHV0XSrmccTRko4MCLNwr61Y9FpS9z1WTMq64sXCUFH4cUew9w/s320/eat+to+live.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><br />
But then I read this book. It was more out of curiosity to see what all the fuss was about. I was a little self-conscious reading it, because I didn't want people to think that I was trying to lose weight, because that is not where my goals revolve around at all.<br />
<br />
I decided to try it out. I'm a driven person, and I LOVE challenges...especially ones that are hard and push you to be better. I've been doing this for 2 weeks now and I have never felt such an amazing transformation in my body. I'm not absolutely perfect with it, but I will say that when I even make the tiniest deviation from it, I instantly regret it. Cheese makes me sick now. Kinda sad, because it tastes so good, but my body doesn't seem to want junk food anymore.<br />
<br />
Another thing: I used to think I had hypoglycemia. Well, turns out I don't. I am completely cured. My body just had a food addiction, and I was constantly going through "toxic hunger" instead of "true hunger." I was used to over stimulating my digestive system, and I thought that was what I needed. Turns out, I just needed more nutrient-dense foods. I used to get sick when I thought I was hungry. Now it feels more like "I'm excited to eat some good food now." It's wonderful! <br />
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Some disclaimers: No, I don't know if I actually believe what he says about animal products raising your risk of cancer. I'll have to do my own research on it to become a true believer. And the book is quite poorly written in the sense that it's VERY repetitive, almost to the point of being annoying. But I suppose there is a good reason for it being repetitive. "Eat more vegetables. Eat more fruits." "The salad is the main dish." "Eat more vegetables." OK, ok, I get it. ;) Also, this method of eating gives you every nutrient you need besides vitamin B12 and sufficient vitamin D. I am afraid to go supplement shopping because I HATE swallowing pills, especially the big horse-pills. *shudder* That right there is probably the main reason I can't feel right about going all in 100%. But I'm getting closer.<br />
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But I do promise you that I have felt my taste buds changing, just like he said they would. Salad dressing is becoming less and less appealing to me, and I crave fruits more than candy. I don't know if it'll last forever, but we'll see. I'm also more motivated to exercise, because I feel like I'm on a drug that gives me more energy, constantly, and I just want MORE.<br />
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If anybody decides to do it, please know that it will most likely make you feel sick for the first 3 days or so. But if you're strict with yourself, it will only last 3 or 4 days, and then you'll feel great. He talks about a "detox" that your body has to go through. I don't recommend this to everybody, because I don't feel like I have done enough research yet, but this has been my experience so far. Eating more fruits and vegetables can't be THAT bad for you, can it?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-60014781371698534142011-09-23T11:29:00.000-07:002011-09-23T11:29:42.695-07:00Something's Got to GiveFor those of you who know me well, I am an extremely passionate person. If you don't know me that well, this may not be obvious to you because either 1. I am too busy to look like I sincerely love every second of what I'm doing each day or 2. I may come across as a bit shy sometimes, even though I'm really not.<br />
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I love my life, really. I love being able to get enough sleep each night. I love my classes and projects that have been assigned to me. I love the way that graduate school is pushing my brain so hard that I don't feel like I know anything about music anymore. I love playing the flute more than ever, because I feel like I just broke through this massive brick wall that was threatening to limit me in my performance for the rest of my life. (See <a href="http://amberseeley.blogspot.com/2011/07/100-day-challenge.html">here</a> for details of my epiphany.) I love how I am growing to understand music better, and to see the big picture. I love how I am able to read the scriptures and philosophize about them with Matt each night. I love teaching flute--never in my life have I done anything with my music that is more instantly rewarding. I love exercising and discovering what my body can do physically. I love the thrill of competitions...all parts of it: looking through them, deciding which ones I want to do, signing up for them, purchasing new music, learning new music, and being able to distance myself from being nervous on stage and focus solely on letting those judges experience how much I love what I do. I love EVERYTHING!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGqshdq8ZLWAllNwDZfpmIeZ_KAH-OAaWnyFMYposD2fgM3LO5vE8mBUriA6JtM53DlnOUSAuMoYhB1ONPu5qNj2vrMYRaf2P2ri4xUvMy9Cs2U4rN8x2iib31qp6vaEg9OI2Ili6fco/s1600/soundmusic460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheGqshdq8ZLWAllNwDZfpmIeZ_KAH-OAaWnyFMYposD2fgM3LO5vE8mBUriA6JtM53DlnOUSAuMoYhB1ONPu5qNj2vrMYRaf2P2ri4xUvMy9Cs2U4rN8x2iib31qp6vaEg9OI2Ili6fco/s320/soundmusic460.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Sadly, there are only 24 hours in a day, and for a typical college student, finances are limited. How much money can I spend traveling around the country playing for people? How much extremely difficult music can I cram into my brain in a matter of weeks? How much time can I sit there and think critically about the words "sonata form" before I have to move on in my textbook reading? <br />
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I feel like I'm in a situation where one thing has to give each day. Just one...whether it be sleep, practicing all that I want to, exercising, teaching, schoolwork, spending time with Matt, or eating. <i>Why</i> can't I do <i>all</i> of these things in one day? I guess life is like a gopher game...you know that one where you have a rubber hammer, and you pound the gophers into the ground, and one of them has to pop up? So, the game I'm playing these days is alternating which thing has to give each day.<br />
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Moral of the story: I'm in love with my life, but I just can't handle it all. Hey, I'll take it!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-57733062356273987852011-09-19T21:45:00.000-07:002011-09-19T21:45:01.657-07:0015 minutes a dayRules to having a productive day as a BYU student:<br />
<br />
<ol><li>Get at least 8 hours of sleep. No matter what.</li>
<li>Read the scriptures! Miracles will happen if time management seems impossible. </li>
<li>Exercise at least a couple of times that week. This and numbers 1&2 are prerequisites to feeling your absolute best. Oh, and eating enough as well. A car won't run if it doesn't have any gasoline.</li>
<li>For the things that you have to do a HUGE amount of, do a little chunk of it VERY FIRST, whether it be practicing or studying.</li>
</ol><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFh384t930Q1qC_txprLWccdmJZUyFu8kuRhmP3Djf8DbJfyaQXTaQLPG6Qf2qF2zsWwbyTI1HgouuZ1oO5zoAN1VGE4RP8OB-59xgc7Sp9pbTxNuPh3eTYEw0Zkprkn3SbrVZbzyZtM/s1600/number-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFh384t930Q1qC_txprLWccdmJZUyFu8kuRhmP3Djf8DbJfyaQXTaQLPG6Qf2qF2zsWwbyTI1HgouuZ1oO5zoAN1VGE4RP8OB-59xgc7Sp9pbTxNuPh3eTYEw0Zkprkn3SbrVZbzyZtM/s200/number-15.jpg" width="200" /></a>This leaves the question: What about the things that I want to do but are not required? Cleaning the house, reading, or other forms of recreation? Well, this won't work in ALL scenarios, but I learned from "fly lady" (the cleaning house genius) that the ONLY way to handle an impossible project (that doesn't have too much overhead of setting things up) is to do it in 15 minute chunks. No more, no less. Just 15 minutes. I'm writing a letter to Nicole, a dear friend of mine who is on a mission. Each day I set the timer for 15 minutes, and I write a little bit each day. That way, she won't go for months without a letter from me like last time because I could never set aside a huge block of time to do it. I'm approaching writing in my journal this way, as well as doing dishes and other things of that sort.<br />
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When getting everything done seems impossible, I know that sometimes I have to turn to little habits that might seem a little silly and possibly ridiculous. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?<br />
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Little miracles of inspiration come to me every so often. And for them, I am so very grateful. Without them, I would probably have much more periodic emotional breakdowns. So, to those of you who are conducting the impossible schedule, I won't tell you to stop signing up for too many things. You probably already know that, as I do. To you, I simply tip my hat and bid you good luck!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-65313074648695607932011-09-12T15:23:00.000-07:002011-09-12T15:24:32.808-07:00Epic Name FailGrowing up in hick town Vidor, TX, you see a few things that you never forget. One of these was a sign right next to the elementary school that I attended that said "Babby Ducks." Around Easter time, people like to buy colored chicks and ducks to have around their yard. We bought some one time, and apart from one of the chickens being so disgusting and sickly that it wouldn't even peck for its food--it would just lie on the ground next to the seed and let it fall into its mouth, and the ducks that pretty much ate the bottom of one of our back doors, it was a good experience.<br />
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Back to my point. "Babby Ducks?" What's sad about this is that in Vidor, you aren't too sure whether or not someone really thought that was how to spell "baby," or if they were just being "clever" to grab your attention on the road. To be honest, I really don't think this is a clever ploy. Sure, I looked at the sign, but I was not motivated to do business with the sort of person who wrote that sign.<br />
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Such is life on 700 East: <br />
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I knew the old comedian joke "Affle House" because the "W" on "Waffle House" was always burnt out. But I never thought that someone would ACTUALLY name their waffles "awful"...even spelled right. Honestly, I haven't been brave enough to try it, but I am thoroughly entertained and curious to see how the business will turn out. Like I said before, I look at the sign every day when I walk to school, but I am not necessarily motivated to do business with a food company with "awful" in their name. I like my body too much.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-81315324860452674092011-09-01T21:05:00.000-07:002011-09-01T21:05:35.357-07:00AnniversaryWho went and saw Josh Groban for their 1 year anniversary? That's right. We got to see him live from the 10th row! Thanks mom and dad for the tickets! It was our anniversary, so we decided to dress up in a tux and formal gown. We were about 10 levels dressed up over everyone else, but we didn't care. We kept getting comments from the 75-year-old ushers elbowing Matt saying, "This is how I used to dress for concerts." Cute!<br />
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Before the show. My hair is crinkled from the curling iron. Turns out I'm pretty good at straightening my hair, but no good at curling it.<br />
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My hair looks a little better in this one. <br />
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Unfortunately we weren't able to get any good shots of Josh Groban. And the videos I took were too long to upload onto Blogger. But we did get all dressed up and pretty before the concert, and I wanted to showcase at least that.<br />
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I was so impressed by Groban's performance. Not only does he sound EXACTLY THE SAME live as he does on his recordings, but he is so good with his audience. He's funny, classy, and a good showman. It was amazing to see him that close. One of our friends got to grab his hand, tell him she loved him, and he said he loved her back! It was pretty cool.<br />
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Anyway, just another update of the past few weeks from the Seeley family. Until next time!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-46411634650027013352011-08-30T19:41:00.000-07:002011-08-30T19:41:15.464-07:00GwaduationAlrighty folks. I'm sure you've been hurting for some pictures. I'm just bad at taking pictures. That's probably because my camera broke, and at big events I have to resort to borrowing other people's cameras, which we all know how stinky that is. Good news is that some of these cameras that have been borrowed have been amazingly high quality cameras. So I'm not complaining.<br />
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So I graduated with my B.M. in Flute Performance from BYU. No, it's not a B.A. like everyone thinks. It was a B.M. Music majors get to have their own degree. It's not "just" one of the arts. AND we get to wear pink tassels. Lucky us!<br />
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Um, I don't remember being nervous, but my face sure looks like I am. Maybe I was worried that I would trip in those 4 1/2 inch heels that I was sporting. Why do I do that to myself?<br />
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Presh. Little does this picture say how awkward my hug was to this man. Kory, I really didn't mean to stab you with my fake diploma. And I really don't mind if you give me a hug on my graduation day. I just didn't know what was going on. It's been about 4 years since I last graduated, and I think I lost my touch.<br />
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You can't really see me, but I'm next to the other music majors with pink tassels. I do feel a bit sorry for the guys. All the other dudes are probably like, "Why is he wearing pink?" Nobody thinks twice about the girls. And if they do, it's more like, "Awww how cute!"<br />
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Me with my knight and shining armor, my greatest support, my best friend in the entire world, my husband of one year, Matt Seeley. I seriously don't know how I got this lucky. He even woke up at 7am to come see me! For those of you who know Matt well, you'll understand how much he loves me. ;)<br />
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This chica has been such a dear friend to me ever since I got engaged to Matt. She has been there as a shopping buddy, a moving helper, a shoulder to cry on, and just a genuine self-esteem boost when I was feeling down on myself. She even took all these pictures with her fancy new camera! Thank you Whitney Eggleston!<br />
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In front of the HFAC, my home for the past 4 years and the next 2 years. I'm sure it'll go by fast, but sometimes it feels like I'll never leave.<br />
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I'm so glad that I was able to finish! This past summer has been full of tons of close calls that seemed to drag me further and further from being able to graduate. But I pushed through them and conquered! I feel like I'm ready for my summer break now.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-13866599470004696192011-08-06T22:33:00.000-07:002011-08-06T22:33:16.368-07:00ReliefSo for those of you who have been paying attention, I recently attempted to delete my blog. It was taking too much of my time, and I felt strange being so inconsistent with my blog "style." Sometimes I would write about something funny that happened to me at the gym, or what we did last week, or just thoughts of mine about life in general.<br />
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After I deleted my blog, I felt a little sad. I love to write. I even took a creative writing class in my undergrad just for fun. It was probably the only class that I took "just for fun" at BYU. How sad is that? The music program pretty much dominates my life. So I decided that there should be moderation in all things--that I could keep my blog, and write about whatever the heck I want, whenever I felt like it. I don't even have to post pictures if I don't want to. (My camera broke, and I don't feel right about buying a new one JUST because I have a blog. I'll wait until I can come up with a better reason to justify spending a couple of Benjamins.)<br />
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So now that I am done psyching you all out, I wanted to update you all on my status of graduation. Assuming I passed that dreaded American Heritage final I took on Friday, I'M GRADUATING! Woot! I have precisely two weeks of freedom before I start back up again for my masters degree. So much for freedom. But I'm going to walk anyway. So what if I'll be back at BYU in 14 days? So what if I just want an excuse to celebrate something? The only thing I feel guilty about is waking Matt up at 7am to come watch me walk across stage--although I know he would do it gladly, despite the non-morning person that he is.<br />
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I am so relieved. This was a bigger accomplishment than I thought it would be. I just felt like everyone got their degree. No big deal. It shouldn't be too hard, because everyone does it. Hah. I used to think the same thing about pregnancy. I guess that'll come as a rude awakening too one day. :pAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-61553644528502774152011-08-03T22:03:00.000-07:002011-08-03T22:03:51.321-07:00Expectation of OutcomeMatt and I like to philosophize while we're together...especially about people in social situations. One thing that we have both come to learn through experience and observation has to do with the principle of <i>releasing yourself from expectation of outcome.</i><br />
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Take dating for example, or job interviews. We all start off putting our best foot forward. This is not what I am talking about. I'm talking about what happens <i>after</i> the first impression...<i>after</i> you become invested in an idea or a possibility. 90 % of the time, there are subtle changes in your behavior that, ironically, make you less attractive to the thing that you are most wanting. Now, I'm not sayin' I was ever an expert at dating. I got super lucky catching Matt, and there is a lot more I could learn about job interviewing. <i> </i>I'm just stating what I have learned so far, and what Matt has taught me from what he has learned.<br />
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These changes in our behavior are hard to control, especially since they are emotional and sometimes even subconscious. Sometimes it feels like the only time we <i>have</i> control is when we <i>don't</i> care that much about something or we aren't really invested yet. Should we give up once we're invested? Should we throw in the towel and admit defeat before it even starts? There has to be a way to release yourself from expectation of outcome. By doing this, you become more confident, less nervous, less emotional, and more capable of handling anything. But how does one do it?<br />
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The bad news is that I don't really have an answer. I haven't necessarily mastered this myself. I am an extremely passionate person, and when I want something, I want it a LOT. However, I do realize the importance of being professional and mature, even when a lot is on the line. The best thing I have discovered so far is to focus on what <i>is</i> sure and tangible when I'm feeling stressed about an uncertainty. Hobbies, talents, career, pursuits, goals...the more specific the better. This doesn't take away all of the anxiety, but it sure does alleviate it. This is much easier said than done, but I feel that if I learn to master this, I will grow up a lot.<br />
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I know this post is more vague and abstract than what I usually say, but I want to incorporate more of my thoughts and feelings into my posts. Let me know your thoughts if you have any regarding this subject. I'm interested in learning more.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-28466308996765808762011-08-01T11:33:00.000-07:002011-08-01T11:33:49.876-07:00Out of OrderOn the Fourth of July this year, Matt and I went with our dear friend Whitney to a rodeo in Oakley! Can I just say that I love the cute little country towns here in Utah? <br />
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The drive there was lovely. We listened to a bunch of old country, like George Strait and Texas pride songs. Whitney's not from Texas, but we're indoctrinating her. I had tons of fun getting candid pictures. Tee hee.<br />
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We actually arrived at the rodeo a few hours early, hoping to catch some of the younger children riding on ponies and such. We were a little late for that, so we just played frisbee for a couple of hours. When we were done, we were lying on the grass, and Whitney said something that made me laugh, as usual. As I was breathing in between chuckles, I inhaled a bug! It was some sort of flying insect, and I could feel it flying around in my lungs. Disgusting, I know. It took like half an hour to cough it up. I'm sure you're dying to see a picture of this. Don't worry. I anticipated that.<br />
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It's nice to know that the human body does indeed know how to regulate itself. *shudder*<br />
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We had a couple more hours to kill before the rodeo so we found some nice spots around Oakley to take some pictures. It was pretty cloudy most of the day, but it was still beautiful. I must say, I don't know what Matt was up to in that picture, and Utah has some of the strangest sounding city names. And even Oregon girls can be country girls. ;)<br />
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The actual rodeo was thoroughly entertaining. Being from Texas, I am ashamed to say that this was my first rodeo. I know, I know. I'm a slacker. I am becoming ever more impressed with the country-ness of some Utah people. It was quite the experience.<br />
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I am kicking myself for not getting a picture, but the entire time we were all sitting by Sister Cook, the first counselor in the Young Women General Presidency! Whitney was social enough to talk to her and get a picture with her, but the entire time, I had no idea who she was. I just knew that they were nice people and they knew a lot about rodeos. I guess that's what I get for being off in my own little world.<br />
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Even though this summer has been mighty stressful, we have had a lot of fun. Okay, now its back to homework!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-22565655535163089162011-07-29T11:41:00.000-07:002011-07-29T11:41:29.920-07:00Tender MerciesOkay, there have been tons of good things happening to the Matthew and Amber Seeley family as of late..<br />
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The first obvious tender mercy that has been given to us lately is my ear getting better. I was able to keep my scholarship, and after much huffing and puffing, I was able to finish my independent study courses (granted with a week-long extension that was so generously given.) Seriously, it was probably the most difficult deadline I have ever attempted to meet...and I'm a procrastinator, so that's saying something!<br />
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But I already basically told all of you about that. The first tender mercy is our new home. Yes, we are moving...again. This will be the third move Matt and I have made together, and we haven't even been married a year yet. (Anniversary is comin' up!) We found a place that is like, 4 blocks south of campus, has a dishwasher, washer/dryer, two bedrooms, lots of storage space, and a garage! It's only $500 a month, $200 less than we're paying now. We weren't sure we were going to get it, because we were 1 of like, 20 couples looking at the place and submitting applications. This decision for me to get the master's right now was a pretty tough one, because we didn't know how we were going to afford it. But the Lord provided a way! We'll save money on gas from driving AND on rent. Seriously, we couldn't be more excited. Although we are extremely sad to leave our amazing ward, we know this is the right thing for us to do. You can bet your bottom dollar that we won't be moving until we graduate. And it's a good thing too. Moving is not the most soothing of experiences.<br />
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The second tender mercy is that Matt is getting PUBLISHED in BYU's law review journal! He wrote a 40 page article about shaken baby syndrome basically saying that before someone is accused for shaking their baby to death and sentenced to a life in prison, doctors should check the dead baby for bone density and some other bone diseases. Even the most fragile handling of a baby with some of these diseases could kill it. There are many innocent parents who go to jail for the rest of their lives who are innocent! Some are not obviously, but some are, and we need to make sure that the people going to jail are guilty! Anyway, Matt literally spent over 100 hours on this research paper, and when he heard that it was going to get published in the law review journal, he was so happy. I was so happy too. My baby is a GENIUS, and it's great to see that other people notice it too! It's not very often at ALL that students get published in this journal. It's mainly professors. This will be SO good on his resume'. But what makes him the most happy is that he could be saving some people's lives if doctors read this article!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt flexing his muscles at Chili's where we went to celebrate the good news.</td></tr>
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Lastly, while we are extremely tight financially right now, we have an increased testimony on paying tithing. We have been consistent with that, too, and I have been blessed with just enough money in recording gigs that are showing up out of nowhere that will help us get by through the move. I seriously couldn't be more grateful.<br />
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Among these wonderful things that are taking place in our whirlwind of a busy life, we are blessed with a kind family and great friends. We have so many wonderful opportunities that are ahead of us. We are growing more and more in love every day. We have the gospel of Jesus Christ in our lives. We seriously couldn't be happier.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-10949608936129027252011-07-27T14:37:00.000-07:002011-07-27T14:37:28.631-07:00100 Day ChallengeOne of my weaknesses in music (one of many) is that I am a very inconsistent practicer. When I practice, I practice HARD. I'll pull 9 hour days sometimes. I'll go through months and months (usually during the semester) where I do nothing but play my flute. Then, when a break comes along, I put it aside, telling myself that I deserve a break. Maybe I do, but the term "break" kind of gets out of control. Some crisis or big event will come up in my life (wedding, ear infection) and I forget that I even play the flute. For the past two summers in a row, I have taken at least two months off. This is bad. And embarrassing. How am I supposed to call myself a serious musician if I keep doing that? Granted, some of the circumstances are unforeseen and sometimes disable me from playing the flute at times, as was the case this summer.<br />
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While I was in China, my violinist friend Lauren told me how she went to some music seminar that gave her the 100 day challenge. I don't know what else was said in the seminar, but basically she committed to practicing the violin every single day for 100 days. When the 100 days were over, she did another 100, just because. She went 200 days without ever missing a day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3_3ldgeuArtFp5UpJNvL3ahUv0wRAobzjii8ygqBV-Bl5iWVj0472by0tVdmzSCZ5ShJtp7Z6u4nA9seSzk3b7VE6Yc6U8UG3mBdeDb74_eN9Z3P5WvEsHLlYeEvAjYRODLjaScXX60/s1600/100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3_3ldgeuArtFp5UpJNvL3ahUv0wRAobzjii8ygqBV-Bl5iWVj0472by0tVdmzSCZ5ShJtp7Z6u4nA9seSzk3b7VE6Yc6U8UG3mBdeDb74_eN9Z3P5WvEsHLlYeEvAjYRODLjaScXX60/s1600/100.jpg" /></a></div>I want to improve my practice habits, and get rid of my inconsistencies. I am going to take the 100 day challenge. Every single day, I will practice for at LEAST 1 hr. I normally practice at least 4, when I practice, so hopefully I won't stop at just 1 hr when I'm feeling exhausted.<br />
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Here is what I hope to gain from this experience:<br />
<ul><li>I hope to learn more about how I practice, and what exactly makes me burn out.</li>
<li>Just like reading scriptures or going to the gym, the key to improvement and understanding is CONSISTENCY. I am determined to come out of this a great flute player.</li>
<li>After 100 days, hopefully I won't quit there! Maybe I'll do like Lauren did, and add on another 100 days.</li>
</ul>There is something truly magical about setting goals that are attainable. I know I can do this. I know that by setting goals that push you, you become more self-aware and more able to conquer your weaknesses. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6414459434842164052.post-81459775863030542752011-07-08T10:45:00.000-07:002011-07-08T10:45:49.364-07:00Post Outline...because I don't have time to write a real post<ul><li>My ear is getting better!</li>
<ul><li>Benefits include:</li>
<ul><li>I can play my flute without my ear aching.</li>
<li>Despite the earwax overload from drainage, I can hear a little better than I used to.</li>
<li>I get to start my master's degree in the fall!</li>
<ul><li>I still have my scholarship! </li>
</ul></ul><li>Slight disadvantages:</li>
<ul><li>I thought I was going to be able to take my time on a couple of independent study courses since I wasn't planning on starting the master's degree in the fall. Now I have 14 days to finish two of them...and I'm only 3/4 the way through one of them.</li>
<ul><li>I am living in the library. AND it's nice outside. Boo. </li>
</ul><li>Matt and I are going to have to move out of our amazing ward and nice, spacious apartment.</li>
<ul><li>Apartments close to campus tend to be either overpriced for their size or SUPER competitive to get into.</li>
<li>Everyone and their dog is getting married, hence the housing competition.</li>
<li>We will probably have to move out the week of our anniversary. </li>
</ul><li>I'm way behind on practicing. I had to take some time off from the ear. </li>
<ul><li>At least I won't be as behind as last year (with 6 days to get ready for the audition because of my wedding.)</li>
</ul><li>On top of finishing my independent study, I need to practice and study my BUTT off for the graduate placement exam.</li>
<li>I had to quit my job without a two week's notice because of the pressing deadlines for independent study courses.</li>
<ul><li>Turns out, you can't get a graduate degree without finishing your undergraduate degree. Who would have thought. ;)</li>
</ul></ul></ul></ul>Amidst a whirlwind of unexpected changes, I really am so grateful that it wasn't as bad as I had originally thought. And I still get to pursue my dream! Now, some of you may be aware that I have been kind of up and down as to whether I want to do this or not. All I can say about that is, no matter what we choose to do with our lives, if we want to be great, it's not going to be fun a lot of the time. It's going to be HARD WORK. So hard, in fact, that you feel like quitting most of the time. But if you're strong enough to stick it through, regardless of how you feel in the moment, I truly believe that you will emerge a stronger, more refined individual with some rockin' skills! The question is no longer "Do I love this?" but "Is the price to be paid worth what I will get out of it in the end?" Now my job is to push through the next month or two and remember to keep the end in mind.<br />
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Wish me luck!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12917444214155188814noreply@blogger.com3