<?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-4205409121252288965</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:00:04.909-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reckless Dreamer</title><subtitle type='html'>Just a girl in a big world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8389028917414600423</id><published>2011-02-04T17:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T17:17:16.647-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The long and short of it</title><content type='html'>You created a world&lt;br /&gt;Where I could undress&lt;br /&gt;You conjured a place of wonder.&lt;br /&gt;But I wanted the man&lt;br /&gt;Not the clown.&lt;br /&gt;And you are always wearing that damn face paint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8389028917414600423?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8389028917414600423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8389028917414600423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8389028917414600423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8389028917414600423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2011/02/long-and-short-of-it.html' title='The long and short of it'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-23722775339044225</id><published>2011-02-04T15:08:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T15:24:27.509-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I will no longer take for granted...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUxufEU-8aI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3Glb8Uj_NQI/s1600/feet%2Bin%2Bgrass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 106px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUxufEU-8aI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3Glb8Uj_NQI/s320/feet%2Bin%2Bgrass.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569948319167213986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUxuZS07D0I/AAAAAAAAAHA/2AUhqEKV93M/s1600/ChicagoAtNight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUxuZS07D0I/AAAAAAAAAHA/2AUhqEKV93M/s320/ChicagoAtNight.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569948219980058434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunshine, warmth, humidity, butterflies, lightning bugs, city lights, art, culture, flowers, trees, flowing water, grass, squishy mud between my toes, fresh and juicy fruit, live music, the sound of trains, the smell of dirt, cuddling, the smell of rain, target stores, friendly faces, architecture, houses, alleys, fountains, barefeet on the sidewalk, picnics, the smell of barbeque on a summer night, rolling down hills, walking through the woods, climbing trees...to be continued.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-23722775339044225?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/23722775339044225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=23722775339044225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/23722775339044225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/23722775339044225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2011/02/things-i-will-no-longer-take-for.html' title='Things I will no longer take for granted...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUxufEU-8aI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3Glb8Uj_NQI/s72-c/feet%2Bin%2Bgrass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4443233187685705736</id><published>2011-02-02T23:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T23:50:46.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://free.timeanddate.com/countdown/i2fxx68r/cf108/cm1/cu1/ct5/cs0/ca0/co1/cr0/ss0/cac000/cpc000/pc09f/tceac8d5/fn2/fs140/szw320/szh135/tatTime%20left%20til%20I%20leave%20the%20arctic/tac000/tptTime%20til%20I%20left%20the%20arctic/tpc000/iso2011-05-16T00:00:00/bo2/pd2" frameborder="0" width="322" height="137"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4443233187685705736?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4443233187685705736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4443233187685705736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4443233187685705736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4443233187685705736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2011/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8866690198280018334</id><published>2011-01-27T16:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T19:57:34.470-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOVE SUN!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUNyAbHNppI/AAAAAAAAAG0/954tJ9HInFM/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUNyAbHNppI/AAAAAAAAAG0/954tJ9HInFM/s200/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567418915963643538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the sun is finally coming out around here. Oh, how I have missed it. Dawn has broken and it is glorious, folks. Let me just encapsulate this moment with Katrina and the Waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/s6GTYC_NmmI" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8866690198280018334?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8866690198280018334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8866690198280018334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8866690198280018334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8866690198280018334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-love-sun.html' title='I LOVE SUN!!!'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TUNyAbHNppI/AAAAAAAAAG0/954tJ9HInFM/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-9118183579592960940</id><published>2011-01-14T14:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T14:00:47.562-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No Apologies</title><content type='html'>I refuse to apologize for who I am or for the truth. People act as if sadness is the plague, but I feel it is normal. Tonight I cry for the lowly, poor, and afraid....for the rejected, awkward, and insane. For the voices, brilliant, snuffed into the ground. And most of all for the beautiful pearls hidden in their shells. All the love lost...and all the love never found.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-9118183579592960940?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/9118183579592960940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=9118183579592960940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/9118183579592960940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/9118183579592960940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2011/01/no-apologies.html' title='No Apologies'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-2161364855067648217</id><published>2011-01-13T17:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T14:21:22.342-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts....</title><content type='html'>That was the worst title ever. I hate titles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...on to the blogging...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some days where we all should have a liscence to just let our hair down a little. Where we give ourselves some room to simply be sad, or crazy...to let it all out.  Yesterday was one of those days for me. I woke up feeling completely off. Full of nervous energy, antsy, cabin feverish. I am in the arctic winter after all. Sometimes I can not be cognizant of that or take it for granted. You could say that I didn't deal with those feelings in the best way, however, I actually learned something from my self induced debauchry. I feel much better today. It was kind of nice being gentle with myself and simply admiting, "You know what? I feel like shit. This is how I feel and Im not putting on a smile for you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my surprise, everyone around me (and all those not "around" me that I spoke with via telephone) were incredibly supportive. I guess I am learning to trust a little more again and be vulnerable? After telling my friend that I was a total hot mess and felt half way insane he said, "Wow! That sounds like fun!" You know you have some amazing friends in your life when they can saddle up beside you on any given day. Good day, bad day, happy, sad, ugly, no makeup, dressed to the hilt, confused, sad, what have you. I do not know why this felt so freeing and such a revelation to me. Perhaps somehow I have developed the impression that nothing is built to last....that people are inherently judgmental...that they will leave you when you're down. I hate that I view the world with such a cynical eye these days. But love and hope ARE much bigger than the confusion and sadness all around me. That brings me comfort and inspires me to do better. I am strong, worthy, and capable. I am also flighty, moody, and sensitive. And you know what? For the first time, maybe ever, I think that is okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of you, my friends, (the three that read this blog!!!) :p, thank you for being you! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-2161364855067648217?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/2161364855067648217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=2161364855067648217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/2161364855067648217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/2161364855067648217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2011/01/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts....'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5903991749338982070</id><published>2010-12-22T15:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T15:06:42.645-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely Girls</title><content type='html'>Lonely girls swallow hard at night&lt;br /&gt;Fighting off sleep&lt;br /&gt;Because dreaming is the saddest time.&lt;br /&gt;A quiet longing&lt;br /&gt;And searing heat&lt;br /&gt;Folded up inside&lt;br /&gt;Take it to work and in the car&lt;br /&gt;To the grocery store and to the bar&lt;br /&gt;And finally lay down &lt;br /&gt;With a soul of desire&lt;br /&gt;Emptiness running through &lt;br /&gt;Like horses on fire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5903991749338982070?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5903991749338982070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5903991749338982070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5903991749338982070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5903991749338982070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/12/lonely-girls.html' title='Lonely Girls'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3979425776906594588</id><published>2010-12-21T21:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T21:46:55.807-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Having You Around</title><content type='html'>I don't want to like you&lt;br /&gt;But we both know I do&lt;br /&gt;It's a fault of woman&lt;br /&gt;To disregard the truth&lt;br /&gt;But there's something about the way you think&lt;br /&gt;That kind of sets me free&lt;br /&gt;And when you crack open my mind&lt;br /&gt;It does something to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me that you'll always tell the truth&lt;br /&gt;And I will walk a mile or so with you&lt;br /&gt;I am not the type to pin you down&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll just say it's nice having you around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlock my kiss&lt;br /&gt;But you're still far from my heart&lt;br /&gt;I keep myself removed just in case I fall apart&lt;br /&gt;You should sense that I am delicate &lt;br /&gt;In so many ways&lt;br /&gt;That's why when you reach for me&lt;br /&gt;I always push away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me that you'll always tell the truth&lt;br /&gt;And I will walk a mile or so with you&lt;br /&gt;I am not the type to pin you down&lt;br /&gt;So I'll just say it's nice having you around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having you around is the highlight of my day&lt;br /&gt;Read me like a book then you memorize the page&lt;br /&gt;Take a second look at what's written 'tween the lines&lt;br /&gt;Because I don't want to theorize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a secret in your smile&lt;br /&gt;Shared only by me&lt;br /&gt;A secret that I carry too&lt;br /&gt;one so inviting&lt;br /&gt;But all of the things we shared last night&lt;br /&gt;I bury in my skin&lt;br /&gt;They wither in the morning light&lt;br /&gt;And I'm alone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me that you'll always tell the truth&lt;br /&gt;And I will walk a mile or so with you.&lt;br /&gt;I am not the type to pin you down&lt;br /&gt;So I'll just say it's nice having you around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having you around is the highlight of my day&lt;br /&gt;Read me like a book then you memorize the page&lt;br /&gt;Take a second look at what's written 'tween the lines&lt;br /&gt;Because I don't want to theorize.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3979425776906594588?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3979425776906594588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3979425776906594588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3979425776906594588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3979425776906594588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/12/having-you-around.html' title='Having You Around'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6084750891072120652</id><published>2010-10-15T18:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T18:14:54.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Raw Version</title><content type='html'>These are lyrics to a song inpired by the arctic that I just finished. (I think). I wrote it after having been here about three weeks and I thought I was done. I have written quite a few things since I've been here, but I kept coming back to this one because it was interesting to revisit the feelings of shock and newness that I initially felt after having just arrived. I used it as a sort of way to measure my own personal growth and such. &lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I listened to it again and decided that it was not really finished. I needed to add my current perspective in order to give the song the evolution that it deserved. So, the first half remains what I initially wrote and the second half is now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raw Version&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;White.&lt;br /&gt;Horizon blurs with a billion shades of white.&lt;br /&gt;Cry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing someone and I don't remember why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A raw version of myself,&lt;br /&gt;Skin and bone against the grate.&lt;br /&gt;A raw version of myself,&lt;br /&gt;I feel the animal&lt;br /&gt;The animal awakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strip me clean of everything I know&lt;br /&gt;Shove my fingers deep inside my coat.&lt;br /&gt;I'm truly on my own&lt;br /&gt;A strange feeling keeps me up at night&lt;br /&gt;I grope for shadows&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in this light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A raw version of myself&lt;br /&gt;Claw my arm to keep me warm&lt;br /&gt;A raw version of myself&lt;br /&gt;I could die, or is it I could be reborn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go for a walk&lt;br /&gt;There's no one to walk with me&lt;br /&gt;But the sky does make great company&lt;br /&gt;The sun my clemency.&lt;br /&gt;I feel the pieces settle again inside&lt;br /&gt;All the silence leaves me no where to hide&lt;br /&gt;And now I know I've been living blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A raw version of myself&lt;br /&gt;I feel innocent and pure.&lt;br /&gt;A raw verson of myself&lt;br /&gt;It's who I really am&lt;br /&gt;And who I was before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6084750891072120652?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6084750891072120652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6084750891072120652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6084750891072120652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6084750891072120652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/10/raw-version.html' title='Raw Version'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6923752636716966731</id><published>2010-10-11T17:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T17:59:46.242-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, Winter...</title><content type='html'>Wind breaks across the water, &lt;br /&gt;And I am way underneath the surface,&lt;br /&gt;Towards the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I can feel the slightest of movement&lt;br /&gt;Like the faintest of echoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence has a way of penetrating you&lt;br /&gt;Emptying you out&lt;br /&gt;Yet, also filling you &lt;br /&gt;Winter wraps around me like a dark velvet cloth&lt;br /&gt;There is comfort in not being exposed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's getting darker&lt;br /&gt;But I am not afraid&lt;br /&gt;Cover me in this midnight robe&lt;br /&gt;Let the colors inside of the night&lt;br /&gt;Seap deep within my soul.&lt;br /&gt;A different sort of beauty&lt;br /&gt;Something pure&lt;br /&gt;That reminds me of longing&lt;br /&gt;Bitter sweet.&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful and sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time widens&lt;br /&gt;Almost disappears&lt;br /&gt;The space between us all seems bigger&lt;br /&gt;So big, in fact&lt;br /&gt;That it almost brings us closer&lt;br /&gt;We're all like&lt;br /&gt;Tiny ships&lt;br /&gt;In the same sea&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find our way back to somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6923752636716966731?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6923752636716966731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6923752636716966731' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6923752636716966731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6923752636716966731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/10/tiny-ships.html' title='Hello, Winter...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-269393056553706024</id><published>2010-10-01T00:19:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T01:57:55.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 14</title><content type='html'>Ten places I want to visit before I die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) France. I want to take a tour of the French countryside. Particularly the southeast part of France, but I would love to see Paris and Marseilles as well. I've thought of maybe taking a wine or food tour there... &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKVxr_Ol7LI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Qq4vMUs6cxM/s1600/annecy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 157px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522945518560734386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKVxr_Ol7LI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Qq4vMUs6cxM/s200/annecy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Egypt. I have always been fascinated with the Nile ever since I was young. I remember reading about it as a child and hearing of it in biblical stories. It always seemed so magical to me. It would be amazing to see it and touch it. I want to see the red sands of the Sahara as well. OH and the pyramids and the sphinx. Egyptian history and culture seems fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV1Tu-Xr3I/AAAAAAAAAFg/iDonhSlhD7Y/s1600/nile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522949499927375730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV1Tu-Xr3I/AAAAAAAAAFg/iDonhSlhD7Y/s200/nile.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Spain. Oh my. The culture, the food, the music, the agriculture, the art. How amazing! Madrid or Valencia would be cool...or anywhere really. I would like to see the countryside there as well. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV36a4q5tI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iSl0Ij6_yhg/s1600/valencia2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522952363572913874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV36a4q5tI/AAAAAAAAAFo/iSl0Ij6_yhg/s200/valencia2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Budapest. I've heard it's one of the most beautiful cities in Europe. One of my best friend's mom and dad were born there also, so I've heard so much about it. The architecture is gorgeous! I love the old gothic looking castles, opera houses, buildings, etc.... Also, they have some amazing and gorgeous thermal spas. The best in the world I've heard. They are supposed to be medicinal. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV5wpe7N_I/AAAAAAAAAFw/RgRK_bwHyi8/s1600/budapest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 138px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522954394716026866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV5wpe7N_I/AAAAAAAAAFw/RgRK_bwHyi8/s200/budapest.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Tokyo. What a mind trip it would be to spend some time there. I hope I inherit about a million dollars so that I can go! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV8PP7Ca0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/9_en3XYlPBg/s1600/tokyo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522957119453817666" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV8PP7Ca0I/AAAAAAAAAF4/9_en3XYlPBg/s200/tokyo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Canada. Particularly Nova Scotia and/or Quebec. I admit my interest was peaked just because of some pictures I saw of Peggy's Cove harbor. Although, there are so many places in Canada that would certainly be worthy of visiting. It's huge! &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV_S8cb_SI/AAAAAAAAAGA/w8vkd82wCS4/s1600/novascotia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 135px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522960481479556386" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKV_S8cb_SI/AAAAAAAAAGA/w8vkd82wCS4/s200/novascotia.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) New England. I've never really spent much time on the east coast, but have always wanted to go. I have heard is lovely there in the fall. This picture is of a farm in Vermont. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWADN_MhaI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nBLcT_hPg6k/s1600/vermont.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522961310822466978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWADN_MhaI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nBLcT_hPg6k/s200/vermont.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Iceland. There is so much to see agriculurally in this tiny country. volcanos, glaciers, waterfalls. Wow wow! It seems like a magical place. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWBFW631JI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/57oUk3IeyIc/s1600/iceland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 130px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522962447091618962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWBFW631JI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/57oUk3IeyIc/s200/iceland.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Australia. I need to go there, mate. I've learned from working here that Australian's love the arctic. And the Australian people that I've met are so cool and fantastical. They seemed to have a true adventurer's spirit and how could you not living there? It would be cool to see Sydney and some of the larger/more temperate cities but I would also like to go out a little further...perhaps to the yorke peninsula or farther west. It would be fun to spend a couple of days hiking there. I found this picture on the Nambung National Park's website. It is located in western Australia. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWEoRZsCNI/AAAAAAAAAGY/WL4Z7b4Qdmc/s1600/australia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522966345440561362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWEoRZsCNI/AAAAAAAAAGY/WL4Z7b4Qdmc/s200/australia.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Italy. Venice! The canals, the culture, the art, the architecture, the food. Ugh... it just seems like one of the most beautiful places in the world! So romantic. I also want to go to Rome. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWF8nFRLoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/LuX-TOH-lio/s1600/venice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 171px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKWF8nFRLoI/AAAAAAAAAGg/LuX-TOH-lio/s200/venice.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522967794369506946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-269393056553706024?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/269393056553706024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=269393056553706024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/269393056553706024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/269393056553706024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-14.html' title='Day 14'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TKVxr_Ol7LI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Qq4vMUs6cxM/s72-c/annecy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3008681212003223070</id><published>2010-09-26T19:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T20:10:09.114-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13</title><content type='html'>Wow, I've been really sucking at this blog lists challenge. It's probably already been 25 days and I'm on day 13. Today's list is 10 things I look for in a romantic partner. Hmm....Do I want to think about that? No. Not at all, actually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I look at it is, I'm going to live my life the way I want to live it. Make myself happy, and if a happy accident occurs, and I meet someone worth it, then I will make time for it. But only if it's worth my time. Only if it's really wonderful. I don't have the energy for games and all of that bullcrap. I'm over it and anyway, it's not even worth it. Yes, friends, I have turned into a disenchanted callous bitch. However, I would rather be that than anyone's fool. So, in the spirit of negativity, perhaps I will list 10 things that I DONT want in a romantic partner. Aye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Emotional baggage, mommy issues, and such like that needs a team of therapists, a lifetime subscription to prozac, the pope, jesus, buddha, the dalai lama, ghandi, and harry krishana to get rid of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Free spirits are awesome and attractive and all of that, however, there is a difference between a free spirit and a free LOADER. I want someone who knows that difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) To quote the scandalous Britney Spears, "Womanizer. Womanizer. Boy don't try to front, I (I) kn know just what you a ah are." Yah, preferably not one of those. We all go through phases in life, but if you are in your 30's and still don't know what you want or have the emotional maturity of a 13 year old boy, we might have a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Someone balanced. Balanced meaning they have read something besides the Guns and Ammo magazine and the Playboy editorials but can still screw in a lightbulb and change their oil, if need be. Also, someone who can have a real conversation about more than just T and A, computer games, and cars but is not such a pompous ass that they demean me if I haven't made time to read applied mathematics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) I actually WANT someone sexual. That's right. I want passionate sex. I said it. We are all sexual beings. However, I don't want someone SO sexual that they put Ron Jeremy to shame. But it would be nice if my man actually expressed interest in my bosoms because yes, it is an important part of a relationship. On that note, if ya don't have the "goods" get out my grocery sto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) No liars. If I have to hook you up to a polygraph every time you talk to me, we have a serious problem. If I could go back and erase all of the time I have spent trying to figure out lies or chasing rainbows that don't exist or driving myself bonkers being paranoid about suspicious behaviors, I would be adding a lot of time to my existance. Just tell the truth. Even if you think it's not what I want to hear. I'm a big girl. I can handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) I want someone who knows the difference between we're friends and we're lovers. Those are two very different states in a relationship. Don't think I am going to sleep with you just because I am being nice to you. I am just a courteous kind of girl, okay? I like people. Or if we're exclusive but you have yet to tell your friends that we are after two months, stop wasting my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) I hate to say this, because I do enjoying creating things myself, however, experience has taught me to stay away from artists/musicians/and pot dealers. I'm not looking for an MBA, but I am looking for something better. Something real that is meaningful and I can sink my teeth into. If you still play drums in a horrible band, live in your mom's basement, and are working at McDonalds, no I don't want your digits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) I want someone who likes to experience new things and go to new places. There is nothing wrong with loving your home and appreciating your roots, but if you don't ever go outside of your home except to go to work, go to the store, and play in your bad garage band....that's just not my style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Possession is 9/10 of the law, HOWEVER, I'm not a law, I'm a woman. You aint my pimp, my daddy, or my pimp daddy and I can do as I damn well please. If I say that I'm with you, I want you, and that I will be faithful to you, these are all true. But if I want to go out with my friends, play a show, or go on an adventure--don't assume I'm having with sex with anyone or everyone but YOU. And don't feel the need to call me fifty times while I'm out with my girls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3008681212003223070?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3008681212003223070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3008681212003223070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3008681212003223070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3008681212003223070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-13.html' title='Day 13'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-7872832320173772103</id><published>2010-09-22T01:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T01:53:53.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12</title><content type='html'>For today's challenge it's ten things that I look for in a friend. Well, that's easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Laughter&lt;br /&gt;2.) Honesty&lt;br /&gt;3.) Kind spirit/compassion&lt;br /&gt;4.) Likes to have fun/try new things together&lt;br /&gt;5.) Sincerity&lt;br /&gt;6.) Open mindedness&lt;br /&gt;7.) Challenges me or has guts enough to tell me when I'm being stupid&lt;br /&gt;8.) Someone who listens and doesn't undermind&lt;br /&gt;9.) Someone I can be a total kid with&lt;br /&gt;10.) Integrity&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-7872832320173772103?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/7872832320173772103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=7872832320173772103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/7872832320173772103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/7872832320173772103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-12.html' title='Day 12'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6108000450652007669</id><published>2010-09-19T20:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T20:30:18.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11</title><content type='html'>Today I am supposed to write what my ten favorite tumblr blogs are, but honestly I don't even know what that is.. Oooops. So I'm skipping todays and going with tomorrow's challenge. Five Chores I love and five I hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Chores I love. &lt;br /&gt;(Okay. I don't know if I would be honest if I said that there are chores I LOVE. After all, it is called a chore. However, there are chores that I mind less than others.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Folding laundry. I think it's kind of theraputic to do. Especially when it's still warm. I love folding other people's laundry too and putting it away for them all pretty. This of course excludes the buttloads of towels and sheets that I fold on a daily basis for my job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Organizing. When I get in the mood, I love to organize all my things. I will put things in their place, move stuff around, and decorate. That is kind of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Dishes. I honestly do not mind doing dishes. It is kind of fun. I find that it's a great time to bond with people. I think I read somewhere that a survey was taken and like 70% of women said they consider doing dishes together a form of foreplay. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Cleaning other people's houses. I really enjoy it. I have done it for peeps on several occasions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Painting. I think painting is so much fun. I don't mind it at all. I'm not the type of painter that is all worried about getting dirty, in fact it's a great excuse to be a big kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Chores I hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Mopping. It is not the act of mopping itself that bothers me. I think it's just that usually by the time I get around to mopping I have already done everything else and I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.)Cleaning the bathtub. It is so cumbersome and gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) Cutting the grass. I have developed allergies in recent years. It's not very fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Emptying out the sink. You know what I'm talking bout. After you do dishes all that random food matter or hair floating around that you have to pick up and throw away. YUCKERS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Putting away groceries. After I've bought groceries I am usually exhausted because I have spent all day running errands and spent all that time putting those heavy bags in my car and then you have to put all that crap away AND make dinner. Annoying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it is. I should win the nobel peace prize for this entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6108000450652007669?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6108000450652007669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6108000450652007669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6108000450652007669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6108000450652007669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-11.html' title='Day 11'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8042223909171930244</id><published>2010-09-18T20:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T01:01:36.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10</title><content type='html'>My assignment today is to post things that I remember from school. Honestly, this is so boring. For the two people that actually read this, I apologize in advance. I was never really in any clubs, besides choir which doesn't really count. I didn't play sports. I was incredibly shy and usually only hung out with my friends experimenting and partaking in various forms of debauchry most of the time. Most of the fun or juicy stuff happened outside of school but eh... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Walking from the north building to the south building in 9th grade and skipping the shuttle bus so that I could sneak and smoke cigarettes. I never got caught but my best friend did. She got grounded for a long time for that one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) When my friend at the time, Dawn, got so mad at the douche who used to pester me every morning in the commons that she spit doritos in his face and then chased him around the cafeteria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) The music practice room that was my haven. It had a beautiful piano. I would lock myself in there and play it. One time my music teacher busted in and said, "I don't mind if you play, but could you please play something else besides those three chords?!" Ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) I got strep throat in 9th grade and did not take my medication correctly. Because of this I got a horrible out break of psorasis on my skin. This was hell on earth, except for the fact that I got to skip swimming. That was quite a relief and plus I got to hang out in the cafeteria every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) I had the coolest hippy music teacher in middle school. I wrote a song in 8th grade. It was called "I don't believe". He taught it to the whole choir and we sung it at the school assembly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) My first crush, Eddie. I met in 3rd grade. He kissed me underneath the train tracks on our way home from school one day. Our relationship lasted a week. I never quite got over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) I wanted to go home with my friend Kristin once, but I didn't ask my mom because I didn't think she would let me. This was probably second or third grade. I told her mom that my mom said it was okay even though I hadn't even asked. It's the first time I can ever remember telling a lie. I hung out with her for a few hours after school, and when I got back to my apartment, there were three cop cars and a very upset momma waiting for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) I spent a semester of school at the "Christian Life Academy". This was a part of my grandparents church in Frayser Memphis. One time I got in trouble for talking too much and I got sent to the principal. The principal was my grandpa. He paddled me. I was heartbroken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8042223909171930244?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8042223909171930244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8042223909171930244' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8042223909171930244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8042223909171930244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-10.html' title='Day 10'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8402632025001963241</id><published>2010-09-18T01:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T01:19:54.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 9</title><content type='html'>Today I am supposed to post a random list of some sort. I have decided to go with 5 things that make me feel better on a rainy day. Kind of lame, but I don't have a lot of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Bubble baths. &lt;br /&gt;2.) Chocolate. &lt;br /&gt;3.) My guitar, Saffron.&lt;br /&gt;4.) Reading.&lt;br /&gt;5.) Cuddling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8402632025001963241?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8402632025001963241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8402632025001963241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8402632025001963241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8402632025001963241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-9.html' title='Day 9'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6374564852000183940</id><published>2010-09-17T01:33:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T02:25:53.875-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 8</title><content type='html'>So, today we have my ten favorite tv/movie characters of all time. Don't diss my list. That is not allowed. Just like John Cusack says in High Fidelity, "How can it be bullshit to state a PREFERENCE?" :p No particular order, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Strong Bad. Funniest little mexican robot ever! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMOJI0tMpI/AAAAAAAAAEI/yq18jP2vcAw/s1600/strongbad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMOJI0tMpI/AAAAAAAAAEI/yq18jP2vcAw/s1600/strongbad.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517769518609150610" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMOJI0tMpI/AAAAAAAAAEI/yq18jP2vcAw/s200/strongbad.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Andre the Giant. Every girl loves a gentle giant. &lt;3 &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMO0sL3v1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/MOvZODwdx20/s1600/andre.jpg"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMO0sL3v1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/MOvZODwdx20/s1600/andre.jpg"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517770266835926866" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMO0sL3v1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/MOvZODwdx20/s200/andre.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) She-Ra. I was obsessed with her as a kid. Girl power all the way.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMQEC1NGLI/AAAAAAAAAEY/8Yjp2YcDWAw/s1600/she-ra.jpg"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517771630124538034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMQEC1NGLI/AAAAAAAAAEY/8Yjp2YcDWAw/s320/she-ra.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Riley Freeman from the show "Boondocks". &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMRZ23BuqI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ZDylwtznMog/s1600/riley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 169px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMRZ23BuqI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ZDylwtznMog/s200/riley.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517773104379706018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Phillip Seymour Hoffman as Lester Bangs in "Almost Famous". &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMSWV90IXI/AAAAAAAAAEo/NYlCxbnIgp0/s1600/lester.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 120px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMSWV90IXI/AAAAAAAAAEo/NYlCxbnIgp0/s200/lester.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517774143521825138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Jack Black as Barry in "High Fidelity". &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMT1CXYg-I/AAAAAAAAAEw/C3xwV4YUBkE/s1600/barry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMT1CXYg-I/AAAAAAAAAEw/C3xwV4YUBkE/s200/barry.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517775770347930594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Rizzo in Grease. Another movie I loved as a kid. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMUZ2IkgLI/AAAAAAAAAE4/EKJ-4mGhy1c/s1600/rizzo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 94px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMUZ2IkgLI/AAAAAAAAAE4/EKJ-4mGhy1c/s200/rizzo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517776402719735986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Audrey Hepburn as Holly in "Breakfast at Tiffany's". &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMVYmctUpI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VDQoU1SmPlk/s1600/audrey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 151px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMVYmctUpI/AAAAAAAAAFA/VDQoU1SmPlk/s200/audrey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517777480840991378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Alexandar Skarsgard as "Eric" in the HBO Series 'True Blood'. Yum yum! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMWSijN8xI/AAAAAAAAAFI/tUw1IolLlwE/s1600/eric.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 110px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMWSijN8xI/AAAAAAAAAFI/tUw1IolLlwE/s200/eric.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517778476226966290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Steve Martin as "Lucky Day" in 'Three Amigos'. Or pretty much any other 80's movies that I have seen that my lulv Stevie is in from around that period. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMXrTJ5SxI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/_0oG47Sjbdw/s1600/Lucky+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 135px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMXrTJ5SxI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/_0oG47Sjbdw/s200/Lucky+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517780001102580498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6374564852000183940?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6374564852000183940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6374564852000183940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6374564852000183940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6374564852000183940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-8.html' title='Day 8'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMOJI0tMpI/AAAAAAAAAEI/yq18jP2vcAw/s72-c/strongbad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5487095482735808571</id><published>2010-09-17T01:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T01:42:11.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All The Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMKxVX4A_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/RuD6lbJX8fM/s1600/head_to_heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMKxVX4A_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/RuD6lbJX8fM/s320/head_to_heart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517765811126141938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Artwork by Jolyn Fry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the words lay dormant in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;I'm a storm inside the quiet.&lt;br /&gt;An ocean of language just beneath my chest.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that I can't quite explain it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lay your ear on my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Tell me you hear what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;There's a deep well of longing in my skin&lt;br /&gt;That all the words lay in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm like a bird fluttering around&lt;br /&gt;Flapping her wings, locked up tight&lt;br /&gt;Utterances are a crayon colored picture&lt;br /&gt;Compared to the beauty I feel tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lay your ear on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Tell me you hear what I see&lt;br /&gt;There's a deep well of longing in my skin&lt;br /&gt;That all the words lay in&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5487095482735808571?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5487095482735808571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5487095482735808571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5487095482735808571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5487095482735808571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/all-words.html' title='All The Words'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TJMKxVX4A_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/RuD6lbJX8fM/s72-c/head_to_heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5990379064827059079</id><published>2010-09-15T18:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T19:08:14.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 7</title><content type='html'>So for my challenge today I have to list the people in my family and a random fact about them. Well, my family is pretty huge so I will restrict to to intermediate fam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) My mom. Her name is Paula Jean. We have the same middle name. I am Stephanie Jean, otherwise known as "Stephy Jean" by my grandpa. Obviously, I was named after my mom and also after my grandmother whose name is Jeanette. Well, actually her name is Helen Jeanette but she goes by her middle name. Another random thing...My mom used to have this wooden carving plaque thing that said "hey hey paula" on it. She had that thing for years. I think she still does actually. My mom is really fun. And funny too. She doesn't even do it on purpose, that is why it's brilliant. One time she told me a story of how she had been on this diet for weeks and she caved. She stopped at a gas station to buy a Suzy Q. She started to eat it and it was so divine that she pulled the car over to finish every last bite. I knew it was true because I found the evidence in her front seat. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) My Dad. His name is Roy. My dad is really funny too. Sometimes really lame and dry and other times hilariously sarcastic. He is warm, giving, affectionate, honest, responsible, and kind. He is very much a man's man. Drinks beer on friday nights. Watches football. Worked at Catipillar for 30+ years. Works on cars. Loves motorcycles. He was a premie baby, so he's always been horizontally challenged. Apparently he was quite a little fire cracker growing up though. He had a horrible temper and was known for beating up kids twice his build. And I believe it too. He is also very finicky. He likes things how he likes them. Everything must be in it's place and just right. One thing interesting is, in spite of all of his manliness, he has impeccable taste. His house is decorated beautifully, he has great taste in fine art, and dresses to the T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) My bro. His name is Shaun Daniel. He is 4 1/2 years older than me. What can I say? He is wise. He has integrity. He is an amazing father and husband. He works very hard and is always trying to evolve. He's also very goofy and totally clueless about the weirdest things. I admit that I am like him in that way. My sister in law told me that one time they were in the car and were singing different songs. Shaun started singing the national anthem, in which he said, "JOSE can you see??? By the dawn's early light." hahahaha. The funniest thing is, he really thought that is how the song went. Terri had to convince him otherwise. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5990379064827059079?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5990379064827059079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5990379064827059079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5990379064827059079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5990379064827059079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-7.html' title='Day 7'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1775151402447045746</id><published>2010-09-13T14:59:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T15:48:49.805-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6: 10 Facts About My Home Town</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TI6NaBEaSsI/AAAAAAAAADw/UxVIk1P9pc8/s1600/stcharles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TI6NaBEaSsI/AAAAAAAAADw/UxVIk1P9pc8/s320/stcharles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516502071678487234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good ole St. Charles, Illinois. The place where I spent the majority of my childhood and most of my adolescence. Sadly, I do not know much about it so I will have to google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) St. Charles was founded in 1833, after the Black Hawk War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.)The fox river runs directly through it, hence the term "pride of the fox" that you see everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.)There were "stations" for the underground railroad in many of the homes way back in the day. They had tunnels and false doorways. There was also an early abolitionist group called "The Kane County Anti-Slavery Society" formed in 1842 that met there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.)St. Charles was extremely isolated early on, even though it is only 40 miles west of Chicago. This started to change in the 1880's with the building of the Chicago Great Western Railway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) It has a population of about 32,000, as of 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Michael J. Nelson, comedian and writer for the series Mystery Science Theater 3000, was born and raised there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) St. Charles was home to the Potawatomi's. ("Neshnabi" as they called themselves, which simply means "the people") A group of migrating Native Americans who were forced south by settlers. Relations between the French and Spanish Illinois settlers and the Potawatomi's was generally good for a hundred years or so. That is until the Anglo's moved in on their high horse and tried to force them out. This causing the Black Hawk war. This war was considered and embarrasment to the US Government and is largely forgotten outside of northern illinois and wisconsin. Don't worry though. We have a huge ass Potawatomi statue by the police station and a park named after them. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.)St. Charles was originally called "Charleston" for a couple of years, until it was discovered that there was already a Charleston in downstate Illinois. It was suggested by a lawyer that the town be named Saint Charles, and hence it stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) There was a large boom of industrial activity there in the 1840's and 1850's. Consisting of several mills and also an iron foundry. The mills were all powered by the river. Also, because Saint Charles was a great stop between Chicago and Dekalb, it contained several hotels in the early days. It is estimated there were as many as 17. The first one built was called The Burchell, and stood where the Arcada theater stands today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) In 1920-1940 a sudden boom of wealth made it's way to the town and St. Charles became known as a resort town because of its scenic river views and what not. The famous Hotel Baker was so popular that everyone referred to it as 'the honeymoon hotel'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1775151402447045746?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1775151402447045746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1775151402447045746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1775151402447045746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1775151402447045746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-6-10-facts-about-my-home-town.html' title='Day 6: 10 Facts About My Home Town'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TI6NaBEaSsI/AAAAAAAAADw/UxVIk1P9pc8/s72-c/stcharles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6381185088570585018</id><published>2010-09-12T17:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T17:06:37.499-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen to Top Ten Songs Playlist.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI4NzAwNzY5MTQzNyZwdD*xMjg3MDA3NzM1MjUwJnA9Njk*MzAxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz*zYWM*MjY*MTljOWY*/OGVjYWQ1NDFkN2IwZTk1ZjFkNiZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; margin-left: auto; visibility:visible; margin-right: auto; width:450px;"&gt; &lt;object width="435" height="270"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.musicplaylist.us/mc/mp3player_new.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="never"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.indimusic.us%2Fext%2Fpc%2Fconfig_black.xml&amp;mywidth=435&amp;myheight=270&amp;playlist_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.musicplaylist.us%2Fpl.php%3Fplaylist%3D80662339%26t%3D1284329147&amp;wid=os"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;embed style="width:435px; visibility:visible; height:270px;" allowScriptAccess="never" src="http://www.musicplaylist.us/mc/mp3player_new.swf" flashvars="config=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.indimusic.us%2Fext%2Fpc%2Fconfig_black.xml&amp;mywidth=435&amp;myheight=270&amp;playlist_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.musicplaylist.us%2Fpl.php%3Fplaylist%3D80662339%26t%3D1284329147&amp;wid=os" width="435" height="270" name="mp3player" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" border="0"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt; &lt;/object&gt; &lt;br/&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.musicplaylist.us"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.musicplaylist.us/mc/images/create_black.jpg" border="0" alt="Get a playlist!"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.musicplaylist.us/playlist/20649558795/standalone" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.musicplaylist.us/mc/images/launch_black.jpg" border="0" alt="Standalone player"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.musicplaylist.us/playlist/20649558795/download"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.musicplaylist.us/mc/images/get_black.jpg" border="0" alt="Get Ringtones"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6381185088570585018?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6381185088570585018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6381185088570585018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6381185088570585018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6381185088570585018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/listen-to-top-ten-songs-playlist.html' title='Listen to Top Ten Songs Playlist.'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6995960202778498780</id><published>2010-09-12T13:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T16:43:51.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ten Favorite Songs...</title><content type='html'>Oh my my, this is downright impossible. I'm afraid to pick a list because I will be leaving out so many wonderful ones. How can I choose? What makes a song meaningful to me? Where I was at when i heard it? What the song has taught me? How a song has the power to make me dance no matter what kind of mood I'm in? How the song enriches my life? Ugh. I need a hundred songs, not ten. However, I will do my very best. This list will probably barely scratch the surface, but I will try my best. They are in no particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Tori Amos- &lt;em&gt;Precious Things&lt;/em&gt; "No one dared, no one cared to tell me where the pretty girls are. Those demi gods, with their nine inch nails and little fascist panties tucked inside the heart of every nice girl." The first time I heard this song, it genuinely resonated within my being. Her seething and yet gorgeous vocals, the racing piano. It was bold. Innovative. She was bringing light to something that I had never heard someone talk about in a song before. Not like that. It was powerful and honest and I still love it. I felt like someone was on my side. I don't want to over romanticize, and I'm not the biggest fan of some of Tori's later work. (I pretty much stopped at 'Scarlett's Walk' which is also a beautiful album)but as a hurting and confused girl, Little Earthquakes helped me through my entire adolescence. I revist it now and then and I still believe every song on that album is timeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Old 97's- &lt;em&gt;Four Leaf Clover &lt;/em&gt; "I've got a four leaf clover, but it aint done one single lick of good. I'm still a drunk. I'm still a loser living in a lousy neighborhood." It is difficult to choose just one song on this album, but if I had to pick one it would be this track. I love this duet. It is incredible! The first time I heard this song I was about 18. I had just gotten my own place and this band was introduced to me by my best friend. I really liked it, but this is one of those albums that grew on me. I didn't fully appreciate it until I saw them perfom live. The self loathing, the dirty guitars, the drum line, the raw vocals and broken poetry...it gets under your skin and stays there.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;3.) The Beatles- &lt;em&gt;Because&lt;/em&gt; "Because the sky is blue, it makes me cry." How do I choose just one? I need a separate list just for Beatles songs. However, Because has always been one of my all time faves. It brings me to tears. It makes me feel happy and free. I love the complex, thick, and interwoven melodies drenched in reverb. It has been the inspiration for some of my own songs. It's simply perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Dolly Parton- &lt;em&gt;Coat of Many Colors&lt;/em&gt; Oh Dolly, how I love thee! This song is so sweet. As a child who grew up poor and had a loving, Christian grandmother I can totally relate to it. It brings me back to childhood. And the message is universal and so important. I love how singable the melody is. She turned it into a children's book, which I sadly do not own. I will some day though. I remember some of her specials on television as a kid. I wanted her to be my mom. Still do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Radiohead- &lt;em&gt;No Surprises&lt;/em&gt; "A heart that's full up like a landfill, a job that slowly kills you, bruises that won't heal." When I first got this album, back in my teens, I used to listen to it the whole way through. I love every single song. I can sing it front to back. But No Surprises was a song I was obsessed with. I used to play it over and over. That sweet melancholy guitar line reminds me of a music box. The song makes me feel like I am in a snow globe, another world. I have never read any quotations or articles regarding what it supposed to be about. I don't want to. However, to me, it is about lonely people quietly wasting away. Sort of like an Elenor Rigby kind of thing. Beautiful, brilliant, and sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.)Patty Griffin- &lt;em&gt;Up To The Mountain (MLK Song)&lt;/em&gt; "Sometimes I lay down, no more can I do. But then I go on again because you asked me to." Patti Griffin's voice has a signature all its own. It is an original and no one could imitate it. Within it lies strength, power, gentleness, fragility, questioning, and warmth. This is a song inspired by Martin Luther King's last speech. The first time I heard it was a couple of years ago and it blew me away. She takes me places I forgot I could go. Enough said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) The Avett Brothers- &lt;em&gt;Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise&lt;/em&gt; "There was a dream, and one day I could see it. Like a bird in a cage, I broke in and demanded that somebody free it." This is the third track on I and Love and You, their latest album. Not only is the music beautiful, the message of the song was so pertinent to my life when I first heard it. I love the pure and sweet simplicity of this band. I love the bluegrass accents, folk elements, and rock beats. This was their first recording with a major label and their first time going full out electric. This album is full of movement and hope. You get the feeling of someone who is putting the past behind them and jumping into the future. And who among us doesn't need that kind of inspiration now and then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Ani DiFranco- &lt;em&gt;Shameless&lt;/em&gt; "I never avert my eyes. I never compromise. I never nevermind the poetry." This woman is awesome. Yes, I am a fan. She is smart, ballsy, and blatantly honest in her songs. So many of her songs tell stories and I feel like I'm looking at a snapshot of a specific time and place. She is a great writer too. She makes me think, even when I don't agree with her. This is a rockin number on secret love. It's juicy, and the way she tells the story it's like she is sticking her tongue out at you and saying "I don't care".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Bob Dylan- &lt;em&gt;Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands &lt;/em&gt; "With your mercury mouth in the missionary times/ And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes/ And your silver cross/ and your voice like chimes/Oh, who among them do they think could bury you?" Ugh, this song is so beautiful to me. The poetry is incredible. There is something in his voice, in the way he sings it too that pulls at my heart. It makes me ache in that good way. Again, I have never read what this song is supposed to be about. He seems to be a very abstract and intuitive writer at times and a very focused one at others. To me, this song is about a woman figure and he undresses her soul layer by layer. Actually, I have learned so much from Dylan in his lyrics, including a lot about the way men see women. Then again, haven't we all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Mahalia Jackson- &lt;em&gt;Didn't It Rain?&lt;/em&gt; In terms of voices, Queen Mahalia is my number one. She is a gospel singer from Louisiana, popular in the 50's and 60's. I am a big fan of southern roots music, black gospel and blues quartets being at the top. She could shake the windows with the power in those pipes. In fact, in her early recordings she would step way back from the microphone and you could still hear her so well. When I listen to her songs, I feel comforted...like she is wrapping her arms around me. She is transcendent. She fills me with light.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6995960202778498780?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6995960202778498780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6995960202778498780' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6995960202778498780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6995960202778498780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/top-ten-favorite-songs.html' title='Top Ten Favorite Songs...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3124302306325882058</id><published>2010-09-12T05:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T05:30:47.371-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dark and Light</title><content type='html'>Ive seen the brightest lights in the darkest places&lt;br /&gt;Seen the ugliest eyes within the prettiest faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all relative to me.&lt;br /&gt;Wherever I'm at, I'll be at peace. &lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will bring what it brings&lt;br /&gt;And it's all relative to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive felt pure love on the lips of a liar&lt;br /&gt;Ive sat in holy places, feeling nothing but tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all relative to me.&lt;br /&gt;Wherever I'm at, I'll be at peace.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will bring what it brings&lt;br /&gt;And it's all relative to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3124302306325882058?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3124302306325882058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3124302306325882058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3124302306325882058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3124302306325882058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/dark-and-light.html' title='Dark and Light'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8721087179232658928</id><published>2010-09-11T14:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T15:41:50.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Challenge Day 4: 10 Favorite Movies of All Time</title><content type='html'>Oh my, this may be seriously impossible. I have seen so many great films throughout the years. I will compile this list based on the movies that I have watched over and over or that I seem to keep going back to. They are in no particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Airplane. &lt;strong&gt;"Jive ass dude aint got no brains anyhow."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have this movie on laser disc when I was about 14 or 15. A couple of my close friends and I used to quote it constantly. One time we acted out the girl scouts at the bar scene and video taped it. Total Classic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Almost Famous. &lt;strong&gt;"The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool."&lt;/strong&gt; I saw this movie with Sara and my boyfriend at the time in the theater. It has it's little flaws, but I still love it. It may be the most quotable movie ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) High Fidelity. &lt;strong&gt;"Should I bolt every time I get that feeling in my gut when I meet someone new? Well, I've been listening to my gut since I was 14 years old, and frankly speaking, I've come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains." &lt;/strong&gt;I fell in love with Jack Black in this movie. I laughed so hard that I cried when I first saw it. My friend and I used to imitate his "The night Laura's daddy died" song. Plus, it is just a really great film about relationships. I mean, he calls on the boss in his time of need. How could you go wrong? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) The Wizard of Oz. &lt;strong&gt;"Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking." &lt;/strong&gt;This was my favorite movie as a child and I still love it. The characters are so lovable. To me, it is simply adorable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Aristocats. &lt;strong&gt;"Oh, shucks, Napoleon. That ain't nothin' more but a little ol' cricket bug."&lt;/strong&gt; This was my FAVORITE book as a kid and probably my favorite Disney movie. I still love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) To Kill a Mockingbird. &lt;strong&gt;"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." &lt;/strong&gt;When I first saw this movie, I cried. I'm not talking little tiny tears either. Sobs. It's just such a beautiful story, superbly acted, and also one of my favorite books. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Man on the Moon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Andy Kaufman: You don't know the real me. &lt;br /&gt;Lynne Margulies: There isn't a real you. &lt;br /&gt;Andy Kaufman: Oh yeah, I forgot. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie is about the Andy Kaufman story. I saw it in the theater as well when it first came out. I was so captivated by it. I suppose it was particularly impactful to me because I saw it knowing nothing about the movie or Andy Kaufman. It was one of Jim Carey's first serious roles and he was absolutely brilliant in it. There is something very Shakespearean about this movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) The Color Purple. &lt;strong&gt;"You sho is ugly!" &lt;/strong&gt;I still think this movie is beautiful. Everything about it is perfect. When I saw it I just cried and cried and continued crying for what seemed like hours afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Karate Kid. &lt;strong&gt;"(Singing) Ooooh waaa eeee. OOOoooookeeeohno. karerdeokosaynooooooo.)Daniel son, Daniel son. Sit down. Sit down!"&lt;/strong&gt;  Another movie I was totally obsessed with growing up. I have probably seen it a hundred times. I love the soundtrack. I love the actors. Mr. Miagi was my very first mentor. Zen meets Los Angeles. God bless America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) The Fall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Luigi: (reading from Evelyn's locket) My dearest daughter, never marry for money, fame, power or security. Always follow your heart. Your ever loving father... &lt;br /&gt;Blue Bandit: It says all that on that little locket? &lt;br /&gt;Luigi: Si. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a movie that I watched just recently, but I was left thinking of it for days afterwards. Not only is the cinematography absolutely gorgeous, it is such a fantastical and beautiful story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8721087179232658928?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8721087179232658928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8721087179232658928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8721087179232658928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8721087179232658928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-challenge-day-4-10-favorite-movies.html' title='Blog Challenge Day 4: 10 Favorite Movies of All Time'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5952683409757839102</id><published>2010-09-11T01:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T01:54:50.761-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: Seven Secrets</title><content type='html'>This one is rather tricky. Usually if I have managed to keep something a secret, there is a very good reason for it. I will try my best though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) At one of my old jobs we were not supposed to accept gifts or gratuities of any kind from patients. I got to know a lot of the regulars pretty well who would come in every week or what not. There was this one super cute old man with this adorable grin. He was a farmer and one day he was talking about how he grew tobacco and so I was asking about it. Anyway, he brought me some one day. I smoked it. What can I say? I'm curious. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) I used to steal toilet paper from one of my old employers that shall not be named. I was poor though and I promise you I needed it. They should have paid me more, dayum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) I really like Saturday Night Fever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) My dad bought me a beautiful car, (1996 Ford Mustang) years ago which I still have. He says he doesn't care what I do with it, but he totally does. If I were to sell it he would probably have a coniption. He loves it more than I do. Anyway, I backed into a concrete block at a gas station the day before I moved to Alaska. He still doesn't know. Ooops. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.)I have mentioned Tom (sprout) in my previous blog entries. Years after I moved out, I came back to visit my mom when Tom was out of town on business. Me and my friend got secret revenge. We opened every jar of peanut butter and stuck our fingers in it. We licked the icecream. We hid important keys under the house and buried one of his tools in the back yard. Haha. I still can't believe I did that. How vindictive of me. It did feel good though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) I like to sleep um... in my birfday suit. This has gotten me into situations in the past. God, did I really just say that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) I can drink whisky like a man. Just whisky though for some reason. Hence, I try to stay away from it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5952683409757839102?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5952683409757839102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5952683409757839102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5952683409757839102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5952683409757839102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-3-seven-secrets.html' title='Day 3: Seven Secrets'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4934201942973725068</id><published>2010-09-08T13:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T13:58:00.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: 10 Random Facts About Me</title><content type='html'>So, for day two of this 25 day blog challenge I am supposed to give you facts of me. Obviously. This is probably going to be boring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) I have an irresistable urge to say "poooey" when I spit out my toothpaste. Yes, I know two year olds do this but it's subconcious at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) I am obsessed with nail polish. No particular reason other than I find it theraputic to apply and I like the smell. I probably have about 30?ish colors right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.)Here's a gross one. I like ketchup on my Kraft Macoroni and Cheese. But, only if it's the boxed kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) One thing I do sometimes is chew things. The ends of pen caps, the sides of cups. It's a pretty disgusting habit actually. I think it's an anxious tick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) I cannot go to sleep without listening to music. Some of my favorite albums to sleep to right now are Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago" and Neko Cases "Blacklisted". Also anything by Wilco is an honorable mention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) I also cannot sleep in other people's beds for very long. I usually wake up every 15-30 minutes and ended up going home to crash. People get offended, but it's not them. I just cannot seem to get comfortable. The only exception is if I know you very very well. Like family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) I really hate eating meat that I can identify. Whole chickens and turkeys freak me out a little. Going to a pig roast is my worst nightmare. It took me a long time to be able to eat fish and I cannot eat shrimp because the tails freak me out and remind me of big bugs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) I do not like being in a room with windows that do not open. Even if it's winter and I have no intention of opening them, I need to know that they CAN open if necessary. If not, I feel really claustrophobic. In the summer time, my windows are open at all times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) I am very absent minded. It's not that I'm a horrible listener, I just am more of a selective one. Even when I don't want to be. It's annoying even to me. So I'm sorry, friends. I often forget where I put things. I lose things pretty much every day (but always find them). I also have a horrible sense of direction and had no problem getting lost in a town I lived in for 6 years. If it was a way that was unfamiliar to me, you can just forget about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) I bust out in song at random moments, which is awkward for other people. I am working on curbing this urge, although I don't wanna. Laura thinks it's funny that I sing to my dishes while washing them. Lately it's been Patsy Cline's "You Belong to Me". :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4934201942973725068?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4934201942973725068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4934201942973725068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4934201942973725068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4934201942973725068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/day-2-10-random-facts-about-me.html' title='Day 2: 10 Random Facts About Me'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5077550560335041827</id><published>2010-09-07T01:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T12:25:44.868-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood Memories Part II</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it's been a couple days--but better late then never right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) &lt;strong&gt;Laundromat elegance.&lt;/strong&gt; This is not technically a childhood memory because it took place in my late teens, but I thought it was appropriate. Any list of this sort would not be complete without mentioning Sara. Sara is my best friend and has been since the day I met her while waiting for the bus in second grade. There are SO many memories that I could mention here, all containing our shenanigans, but that is another list for another time. &lt;br /&gt;When I was 18 Sara and I moved into our own place together. We were VERY poor, the type of poor where I was stealing candy from my work for meals and sara was going on dates for dinner and then living off of the left overs for a few days. It all sounds dire, but we had so much fun! We were the queens of making simple things fun. We did all sorts of stuff. We wrote plays and acted them out, spent whole evenings thinking of pranks to put on our answering machine, went on 2 a.m. slurpee and beef jerky runs, and danced all around our apartment for no good reason other than it was Tuesday. &lt;br /&gt;Sara hated doing laundry. She seemed to hate laundry as much as I hate cleaning the bathroom. In fact, sometimes when she ran out of clothes she would just say "screw it" and buy more instead!! Which I happen to think is pretty awesome. We would often have two HUGE mounds of clothes, one of them mine and one of them hers. She had a cat "Figaro" who hated me for some unknown reason. He knew my scent and when he was feeling especially bitter towards me, he would circle around the clothes mound, walk right over Sara's clothes, and pee all over mine. That cat was like Cujo. In fact, that was my nick name for him. One of my shirts could be on the floor, laying directly next to one of hers and that little bastard would position himself perfectly to make sure his urine stench landed ONLY on my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, laundry day was a big deal. First of all it required massive amounts of organization and muscle power. On top of that, we had to spend money to do it and when it comes to more ramen noodles or a clean bra, sometimes you have to improvize and wash your bra in the sink. &lt;br /&gt;After organizing ALL of our clothes into the appropriate piles, (and I mean every stitch of clothing we owned at that point), we would realize we had nothing in our closets to wear TO the laundromat. Except of course for the one or two super fancy dresses that we never wore and had stuffed at the way back of the closet. So what did we do? We utilized that shit! We used laundry day as an excuse to dress up to the hilt. I'm talking heels, hair dos, full make-up, and all the fixins. It was always quite hilarious to see the looks on people's faces while I was playing pacman (for 25 cents)in my bridesmaid dress. Doing laundry with sara became quite a fun event, but of course that is totally how we roll. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) &lt;strong&gt;Getting arrested. The first time.&lt;/strong&gt; When I was about 13 or so, I was hanging out at this place called "Coffeehouse Gibehrti". Or just "The Coffeehouse" for short. The first time that I went there, I remember the feeling that it was very intoxicating and full of wonder. It seemed to be buzzing with life, mystery, and drama. It was full of so many interesting people too. It was like all the freaks started coming out at night and gathering in this little place. There was lots of laughter, poetry, darkness, and also some scariness and utter delusions. Most of the people there were a lot older than me. At least already in high school or in their twenties, but they seemed to accept me right away. I immediately starting going there every chance I got. I went after school, on the weekends, etc... Eventually, a couple of my friends started coming along with me as well. Mostly Amanda, Brooke, and her brother Gregg. It is there that we met a couple of nice gentleman, seemingly harmless, much older, who would hang out with us every now and then. I will spare their names. At the time it seemed really cool that they wanted to hang out with us, but now it just seems creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One night in the summer, we decided that we wanted to go to the fair and stay out and meet up with these guys, one of whom seemed to have an unhealthy infatuation with Brooke. We of course couldn't tell our parents what we were doing, so we lied. I lied and said that I was staying at Amanda's house, Brooke lied and said she was staying at my house, and Amanda said she was staying at Brooke's house. It seemed like the perfect cover. We went to the fair that night, where we met these two guys. We all went to Shoney's afterwards, and then sat and talked by the river in the manor parking lot. Another one of our notorious hang outs. Besides smoking ciggarettes underage, we weren't even doing anything noteworthy besides talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To our disdain and our surprise, at about 3 am or so, a cop car pulls up and starts asking us a bunch of questions. To make a long story short, we all get hauled away in an cop car. This was very scary for us all, especially me...as I was still living with Hitler at this point (reference previous blog entry), and I thought for sure that he would stake me in the heart and feed it to the wolves once he found out I got arrested. We all got mug shots, finger prints, the real deal. They totally put the fear of God in us, but especially our parents, when they painted the guys we were hanging out with to be dangerous drug abusers and violent criminals. (Although it turns out that one of them HAD been previously charged with sexual assault)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I remember correctly, Brooke got a pretty light punishment which consisted of her being banned from seeing me for like two weeks. Amanda's mom slapped her so hard that it echoed across the river when she came to the police station. And I'm pretty sure she was grounded for a little while. While I was basically sentenced to prison for SIX months! My punishment was the notorious sentence writing, a list of chores to complete every day when I got home from school. A very LONG list. No guitar. No television. NO music. AND Hitler made me write a letter to all of my friends parents from school, his collegues at work, and my distant family members telling them how rebelious and irresponsible I was. Yes, he sent them. Humiliating and unnecessary punishment, but it did work. I never did that shit again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as court, we were all sentenced to community service, which we all served by  helping out at the library. This was actually fun for me, as it was the only time that I really got to see my friends. We would pass little funny notes to each other and stuff. I don't remember what happened to the two guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.)&lt;strong&gt;My Lilac Heaven.&lt;/strong&gt; I have always been the dreamer type who likes to wander around. I would spend long periods of time by myself outside as a child. I used to have a huge oak tree in my front yard and I remember climbing way up high on it to look at the stars at night. I would go on walks and adventures in the woods by myself, always looking to discover something. It seems I just wanted to feel happy and free and I always seemed to feel like that the most when I was outdoors. Every place I have lived I have had a special "spot". Some place that I like to go to and sit, think, just BE. From the age of about 8-15, I had several different spots. But the one that I remember the most fondly was by this blessed, incandascent, ethereal cluster of lilac bushes.&lt;br /&gt;In the spring time there was this thing called the "Lilac festival" and many of the houses on my street used to participate in it. The point of course was who could grow the prettiest, lushest, and most fragrant lilacs. Oh, it was heaven on earth walking home from school with that smell in the air. They were everywhere. And pieces of lilac would get swept away by the wind or rain and blow across the ground.  &lt;br /&gt;One day while I was walking through the woods, I saw in the distance this cool looking circle of trees, so I decided to study it further. I discovered this beautiful creek and if you walked along the rocks that lined it you landed in an enormous pile of lilac bushes. It seemed pretty far from anywhere, so I felt safe. I used to go there and sit, mostly in the afternoon reading books, thinking, or sometimes taking naps. That is, until I got caught. Apparently the place I had staked was actually someone's property. I was very sad to let it go, but I never went back. I also never forgot it. Lilac is still my favorite smell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5077550560335041827?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5077550560335041827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5077550560335041827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5077550560335041827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5077550560335041827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/childhood-memories-part-ii.html' title='Childhood Memories Part II'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1669870160225570193</id><published>2010-09-04T14:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T15:37:31.998-05:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Childhood Memories</title><content type='html'>I decided it might be fun to try this 25 day blog challenge. Hey, why not? It's pretty straight forward. You reveal new things about yourself every day for 25 days and yadda yadda. I'm not sure what the point is. Perhaps self reflection? Perhaps to let other people get to know you better? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 1: Five Most Important/Memorable Childhood Memories&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one may in fact be the toughest one out of all of these for me. My memories of my childhood are very sporatic. I have managed to block out large chunks of it, and I am not kidding. Not to mention that I have a horrible memory anyway. I think it's a genetic defect. Here goes nothing... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) &lt;strong&gt;Big brothers are a blessing&lt;/strong&gt;. My brother and I were extremely close as children, even though we would occasionally fight like cats and dogs.....let me rephrase.... HE would play horrible pranks on me and ask me to do terribly dangerous things so he could watch. Because I was incredibly gullible and sweetly stupid, I would just go along with anything he said, no matter how many times I got hurt. I trusted him to a fault. One thing I CAN say though is my brother had this very noble inclination that HE could terrorize me as much as he wished but NO ONE else better even think about it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We grew up very poor and were living in this apartment complex in West Chicago. I will just say that it was full of shady characters too, although I don't recall ever being frightened. Anyway, one day this Mexican kid from a couple buildings down decided that he wanted to steal my bike. I LOVED that bike. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This kid was older than Shaun if I recall and was pretty tough. Not only that but he had older brothers that were even tougher. I think they may have even been in a gang. Despite all of this, he puffed his lil chest out and marched right over to their apartment and demanded that this little punk give me back my bike. I couldn't believe it! I had no idea that he was going to do such a thing and I certainly never would have asked him to. I would be afraid he would get murdered! However, without much of a fight besides some threats and back talk....the bike was returned. It was sitting on the porch when I got home from school. I couldn't believe that this creature who once told me to stick my finger in a fan (WHILE IT WAS PLUGGED IN)could be so protective over me. It made me so proud and still does. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) &lt;strong&gt;Trailor Swimming&lt;/strong&gt;. Yes, you read that right. When I was about 8 years old, my mother met this man. I liked him right away because I thought he was RICH. He lived in a MANSION with all the food and sweets you could ever want. He had a POOL TABLE in the basement AND ATARI with tons of GAMES. He had movies and tons of places to discover both inside and out. I was in heaven. To me, moving in with him meant living like a queen. (It's hilarious, because if I were to look at that house now, it's really not that big at all.)And to my utter delight, we DID move in with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I did not forsee then, however, was that Tom (i.e Sprout, Troll, Hitler) &lt;--- all nick names given to him by my friends) was horribly mean and kind of psychotic. He once made me write 10,000 sentences for forgetting to turn off a light. And that one example is small potatoes compared to other various forms of torture I endured. What he did not know with the sentence writing was that I had all of my friends in school helping me out. It was like a little sentence writing factory. Somehow he didn't manage to notice that my finished product had about 10 different hand writings. But, I digress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only was Tom very mean, he was also a total redneck. He loved to parade around outside all day shirtless with his disgusting birth mark (a large patch of bumpy, pimply skin with very long hairs protruding from it) WHILE wearing cut off shorts which stopped only a little below his buttcheeks. He had a beer tap in the kitchen (awesome!) He had about 14,000 cars (all of them not running) in the driveway. What my mother was thinking, I will never fully understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did do a few nice things for us kids. For instance, on one very hot summer day, he decided to surprise us. He lined a homemade pull trailor with some very heavy plastic and then filled it up with some (freezing) water and told us we got a pool and that we could go swimming! Shaun and i were very excited and got into our swimsuits right away. I guess we thought that a 10 foot underground pool could be installed in an afternoon. I have no idea. Anyway, we ran outside to discover this little trailor filled up with water in the front yard, no less. How anti-climatic. I pretended, quite convincingly, to be excited. We got in and the thing was barely bigger than a bathtub and cold enough to make you go into hyperthermia within 30 seconds. However, we SAT in it and splashed around and said "Yay!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did a pretty shoddy job creating it. (It leaked) And I'm pretty sure he was drunk, which was FINE with us because the ONLY time Tom was nice was when he was drunk. It was amazing. Four or Five beers and he turned into Hitler's angelic, mild mannered twin. He took pictures of us "swimming" in it and they are floating around somewhere. I wish I had them now to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am running out of time now. Plus, I have to druge up some more memories--but I will post the other three tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta ta for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1669870160225570193?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1669870160225570193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1669870160225570193' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1669870160225570193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1669870160225570193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/09/5-childhood-memories.html' title='5 Childhood Memories'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3823179394346071946</id><published>2010-08-11T01:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T02:30:06.952-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Arctic Coast is the Most!!</title><content type='html'>Okay, not really. I just like to rhyme. Not to say that it's "bad" up here, it has a beauty of it's own and I will never forget it. I've written some pretty decent songs up here, learned how much I love pastels, made a really close friend and have met MANY amazing people from all over the world. Not to mention saw things that I am sure I will never see again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine said that this place makes you more "you". Kind of like infusion. I agree with this in part. It certainly has tested my metal and made me realize my own silliness, my own strengths and flaws, and what I truly want in life.&lt;br /&gt;My own father's nick name for me is "gypsy". I agree that I do have a tendency to ramble. But this nickname also bothers me to an extent. I love adventure and travel but I don't want to be a vagabond forever. 30 is creeping up quickly and I need to lay down some roots somewhere. I need a home base and quite honestly, there has never been a place where I felt that. I want to carve out something of my own. What good are all these songs I'm writing if I am not sharing them with anyone? I must say. I MISS PERFORMING. Bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I am pretty much ready to get back into civilization. I'm already feeling slightly awkward and bushy. The thought of loan sharks, cops, taxes, parking meters, crazy folks with a pension for crime...it is kind of overwhelming. I'm free of all of those things here in my safe little bubble. &lt;br /&gt;I've realized some things lately. For instance, a little solitude is good--too much of it is bad. At least for me. I miss my friends and family to pieces and some days that can get me pretty down. I realized it's not always where you're at, but who you're with. When I get back, I am going to dig my heals in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had three goals coming up here: Experience the arctic, clear my head of bullshit, and save a little bit of money. By the time I leave in October, I will have accomplished all of those goals which makes me feel pretty darn good. I have devoured all 686 songs on my ipod. (it's an older model) and now I am lusting for some new stuff. Anyone who wants to send me some burned cd's, I will be very grateful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grass is already turning fall colors and I can feel winter peeking it's head around the corner already. This means less walks for me, which makes me a little sad. Any book recommendations? Thankfully it looks like we will be very busy. So I will work work work for 51 more days, then this world worn gal is coming home. Be ready for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple people asked about my music. Here is a link where you can listen. (Keep in mind, most of these songs are older and/or works in progress)&lt;br /&gt;http://www.myspace.com/stephieyeager&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3823179394346071946?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3823179394346071946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3823179394346071946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3823179394346071946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3823179394346071946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/08/arctic-coast-is-most.html' title='The Arctic Coast is the Most!!'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-9028164165808456635</id><published>2010-06-30T19:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T19:39:16.889-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deadhorse Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCvjEBvk2yI/AAAAAAAAADg/rQVxpwLYFWU/s1600/deadhorsewindow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCvjEBvk2yI/AAAAAAAAADg/rQVxpwLYFWU/s320/deadhorsewindow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488730229208046370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of the view from my window as of a few weeks ago. All that snow has melted now.&lt;br /&gt;It has been forever since I've updated this thing. I've been staying pretty busy and don't have a lot of time to get my blog on. What can I say? Gee...so much has happened since the last time that I wrote. The majority of the snow has melted now, the arctic flowers are blooming. So far this season I have seen three bears, musk ox, caribou, varioius species of birds, ground squirrels. The white fish haven't made there way here yet, but I would like to do some fishing some time. &lt;br /&gt;Time is running together and days are just passing by. It seemed I blinked and it was July. I will spend my 29th birthday in the arctic. It's kind of meaningless to keep time. My inner clock is broken. Between not having any obligations in the real world and it being light 24/7, I have no reason to keep track really. It's kind of comforting, actually. &lt;br /&gt;There are certain things that I used to view as really important that now seem completely meaningless. There are things that I didn't even notice before, that I took for granted, simple things....that I appreciate so much more. For instance, the voices of family and friends. Graceful changing of the seasons. The weather here is kind of an adventure in and of itself. I am an imposter martian working on Mars. I notice every little change. Small things seem much more drastic. It is getting kind of green up here now. It is a nice change from brown, gray, and white. The river is so beautiful to me. If most would come up here and see it, they would probably shrug and say, "It's just a river". But to me it is this massive life force. It's invigorating just to listen to it. It almost makes up for the lack of trees. &lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am changing a lot. I have become kind of privy to this place. Although if I were to try and explain it to you, I would fail miserably. It is something subtle yet profound. Like waves against the rocks making sharp corners soft. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep those I love in my thoughts always.&lt;br /&gt;I love and miss you all,&lt;br /&gt;Steph.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-9028164165808456635?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/9028164165808456635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=9028164165808456635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/9028164165808456635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/9028164165808456635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/06/deadhorse-update.html' title='Deadhorse Update'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCvjEBvk2yI/AAAAAAAAADg/rQVxpwLYFWU/s72-c/deadhorsewindow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1355787108550429900</id><published>2010-05-21T03:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T03:48:42.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To The One Who Broke My Heart.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;You're my achilles heel, but I already know how to swim.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S_ZIaC0NNTI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Xgvikohs4Ro/s1600/weird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S_ZIaC0NNTI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Xgvikohs4Ro/s320/weird.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473642009385055538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1355787108550429900?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1355787108550429900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1355787108550429900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1355787108550429900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1355787108550429900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/05/to-one-who-broke-my-heart.html' title='To The One Who Broke My Heart.'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S_ZIaC0NNTI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Xgvikohs4Ro/s72-c/weird.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1792536324590105994</id><published>2010-05-09T20:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T20:14:48.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ayn Rand on Sex...</title><content type='html'>I came across this the other day and found it interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love is blind, they say; sex is impervious to reason and mocks the power of all philosophers. But, in fact, a person’s sexual choice is the result and sum of their fundamental convictions. Tell me what a person finds sexually attractive and I will tell you their entire philosophy of life. Show me the person they sleep with and I will tell you their valuation of themselves. No matter what corruption they’re taught about the virtue of selflessness, sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts, an act which they cannot perform for any motive but their own enjoyment - just try to think of performing it in a spirit of selfless charity! - an act which is not possible in self-abasement, only in self-exultation, only on the confidence of being desired and being worthy of desire. It is an act that forces them to stand naked in spirit, as well as in body, and accept their real ego as their standard of value. They will always be attracted to the person who reflects their deepest vision of themselves, the person whose surrender permits them to experience - or to fake - a sense of self-esteem. Love is our response to our highest values - and can be nothing else.” &lt;br /&gt;- Ayn Rand&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1792536324590105994?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1792536324590105994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1792536324590105994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1792536324590105994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1792536324590105994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/05/sex-love-and-all-that-jazz.html' title='Ayn Rand on Sex...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6469920852618923001</id><published>2010-05-08T02:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T03:33:45.325-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Week Tres</title><content type='html'>Well, here it is...week three at Deadhorse Camp in the good ole arctic. Not a whole lot of pressing news to report this week, other than I have been getting out and going for walks every chance I get. This place really does have a beauty all it's own. Simply the intensity of the sun is something to experience. The enormous sky seems to swallow you. Natures gorgeous snow sculptures that the wind created with our last blizzard. Now the rocks and the river bed are starting to peek out from under the snow and life is slowly starting to return.&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days ago I saw a gorgeous Snow Bunting just outside the camp and on my walk today I saw some geese. This does not seem like a big deal, but after 8 months of the silence of winter, every new development is exciting for folks up here. I cannot wait for the migration! Every day that I go out, I hope to see something new.&lt;br /&gt;Today was rather cold on my walk (at least for this Tennessee girl.) It was -3. The sun was out and beaming strong though which definitely softened the blow. I am going to have to invest in some warmer pants, as my tooshy got frost nipped a little. I've been playing it by ear as far as supplies. It's an interesting contrast here. When I'm walking along the Dalton, one side is a lake, a river, miles and miles of tundra. The other side is machinery, trucks, and other various equiptment. man vs nature. The age old battle and I'm somewhere in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;The only things I have to keep me entertained in my free time are my ipod, two books, five movies, and my guitar. That is all i could bring with me on the plane. My ipod froze today and now it is not working. Both books I have read. All five movies I have watched. So, what to do? I really don't want to start accumulating too much stuff. I'm thinking of purchasing some pretty stationary for writing letters, a couple small canvases and some pastels, a larger journal for scribbling, and a condensor mic. When I receive my laptop, I can hook my condensor mic up to it and use it for recording. Who knows, maybe I will write and record an album here this summer. That would be fun! Recording in my little drill unit in Prudoe Bay, Alaska. CRAZY, huh? Oh! And I absolutely need a new camera!&lt;br /&gt;I have started to collect rocks. There are some very pretty fossils and stones lying around if you pay attention. Perhaps I will take the prettiest ones and have them polished and wrap them into necklaces for gifts. (or for me!) Ha. &lt;br /&gt;Boy, the things that I have taken for granted! The luxuries of life that I consumed without so much as a second thought. Like....body wash! (Oh girlie, smelly, silky body wash...how I miss thee.)Yes, I shower peeps with awesome bar soap. Just like those archaic cave people did. &lt;br /&gt;Personally, I am getting more adjusted. My sleep patterns are balancing out a little more. I find I don't really care if the sun is shining when I fall asleep anymore. In fact, every ray of sunshine is a comfort to me. I'm becoming hungry for it like a sun starved animal. 24 hours of daylight sounds glorious! What is happening to me? ha. The past four nights I've slept with my curtains open. (I have a very decent view of the tundra from my room). It makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am out of words for now, so I'm signing off. Happy trails to you.&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Steph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S-UhvmKBqXI/AAAAAAAAACo/Hs_aFFkcfdE/s1600/snowbunting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S-UhvmKBqXI/AAAAAAAAACo/Hs_aFFkcfdE/s320/snowbunting.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468814424091502962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6469920852618923001?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6469920852618923001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6469920852618923001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6469920852618923001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6469920852618923001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/05/week-tres.html' title='Week Tres'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S-UhvmKBqXI/AAAAAAAAACo/Hs_aFFkcfdE/s72-c/snowbunting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4035714501576811172</id><published>2010-05-06T02:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T02:51:28.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Caves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S-J07FVVumI/AAAAAAAAACg/SXFHu2S1CCk/s1600/igloo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S-J07FVVumI/AAAAAAAAACg/SXFHu2S1CCk/s320/igloo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468061455973988962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is there to do during a blizzard you ask? Suit up and build an igloo of course! One of the regular guests and I built it together. He made a snow saw out of a piece of sheet metal and we cut blocks of snow out. Those suckers were heavy! It ended up being pretty cozy inside. It turned out pretty lopsided, but we had fun! I am hoping to build another more snazzy one before the snow melts in a month or so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4035714501576811172?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4035714501576811172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4035714501576811172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4035714501576811172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4035714501576811172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/05/snow-caves.html' title='Snow Caves'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/S-J07FVVumI/AAAAAAAAACg/SXFHu2S1CCk/s72-c/igloo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-7837543690744094049</id><published>2010-04-30T20:57:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T21:31:13.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Own Eyes/Deadhorse Update.</title><content type='html'>Here is a song I wrote today. It's not very good, but there are some things that I do like about it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm like a prisoner that's been set free,&lt;br /&gt;Only it 'aint like it is on TV.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not scared of most anything under the sky,&lt;br /&gt;But I sure am afraid of my own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the roads that've been paved inside&lt;br /&gt;They've led me in circles so I'm starting over. &lt;br /&gt;I'm using my instinct and wisdom as a guide&lt;br /&gt;And I won't be looking over my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen it your way a million times.&lt;br /&gt;I've shifted shapes just to look through your blinds.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot even tell you the things that I've sacrificed&lt;br /&gt;To avoid the questions in my own eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not afraid of the dark or the light&lt;br /&gt;I've wandered in places some fear to tread&lt;br /&gt;I've laid beside some and held them all night&lt;br /&gt;Given away my heart to revive some from the dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care much&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's all worth the price&lt;br /&gt;Is anyone brave enough to love the woman hidden behind &lt;br /&gt;My own eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here it is. My second week in Deadhorse Camp. I've decided I will try to give updates weekly, on Fridays. What to say? I'm currently experiencing my first arctic blizzard, which is really cool! It could very well be the last one of the season, so I am very happy to be here to see it. I went out briefly and played in it for awhile today. The formations that the wind creates out of the snow is really quite beautiful. I slid down a snow hill a couple of times. It was fun! I also saw two musk oxen wandering around a couple of days ago. I love it here when it's sunny! When it's cloudy and over cast it can weigh me down a little. It is cool getting off work late...around 9 or 10 pm and the sun still shining. It makes me feel like my day is not over yet! It's a strange thing to describe. This is not very good for sleeping though. My sleep patterns are random. Some nights I cannot sleep at all and other nights I sleep fine. I'm hoping all of this will iron out in a couple more weeks. Thankfully, last night was a good sleeping night. &lt;br /&gt;I've settled in a little more. Trying to keep myself occupied. I've stayed busy with work, but it looks like I will have a couple of days off, so I have been catching up on some reading and on writing. I will spend tonight writing down some personal challenges and goals to complete before the fall. &lt;br /&gt;Emotionally I must admit I still feel kind of chaotic. I still struggle some at night. I hate feeling lonely. It sucks. I also know though that I have to learn to hold myself. To feel comfortable in my own skin. To be at peace and embrace life and those around me. I know this is good for me. It does hurt but not all the time. This too shall pass. I try not to let it control me or weigh me down too much. I don't want to let those thoughts impede on such an amazing experience as this. Is this the burden that some people learn to carry in life? I never thought this would be my fate, but it is what it is. The pain must dull after awhile. I wouldn't say I'm home sick. I'm loving Alaska! I do miss my loved ones, though. Please write. It means more than you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Steph.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-7837543690744094049?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/7837543690744094049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=7837543690744094049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/7837543690744094049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/7837543690744094049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-own-eyesdeadhorse-update.html' title='My Own Eyes/Deadhorse Update.'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8531105233697590485</id><published>2010-04-23T02:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T02:59:08.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Sleepless Thoughts...</title><content type='html'>Here I am in Deadhorse, Alaska. Tomorrow will make a week. It is so flat and white and very bright. You can see for miles across the tundra. You can see the mountains in the distance. It's 12 am and the sun has not quite set yet. This is a very pretty time of day. Sometimes it's difficult to tell the difference between the sky and the ground. The horizon gets blurred. It's surreal. It's mars on earth. I am so excited to get to experience this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are all random thoughts with no particular order--but hey, it's my blog and no one reads this anyway so I don't give a damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been displaced. Dislodged. Out of whack. I feel really alone here. I mean REALLY. I thought I was used to that, but I didn't have a clue. It's me and hundreds of miles of tundra. Yet I am very safe and very well taken care of. I can't hide myself here. What you see is what you get. Facades are so useless and no one gives a shit. It's refreshing. It's scary. Good day or bad...hair looking like it would had I stuck my hand in a light socket...bright eyes...teary eyes, people here are going to know it. They just smile, shrug their shoulders. No big deal. To me, it seems like a big deal. But why is being myself a big deal? Why can't I just be? Exhale. Take in the moment each second that passes? People like it or they don't....it all doesn't make much of a difference in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm used to the feeling of tension, the fight to keep my head above water (bills, society and such), survival. I don't really have that here. It's actually very peaceful. Relatively stress free. The only thing I have to worry about is Deadhorse camp. The only thing I have left to fight now is myself. Hey, I'm human. I'm working on it. I'm still getting adjusted. Nights are difficult. I have a compulsion to be held. Falling asleep alone never seemed to bother me that much before but it does lately. The lonliness I feel is intense. I just want want to lay in complete silence and be held by somebody. No words just a human soul as close to me as possible. But it's just me. What's the answer? The answer is that there are no answers...only moments. Millions of moments that I should be embracing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the world as really beautiful and really sad. Deadhorse reminds me of this. Every place is different versions of that very thought but here it is all so extreme. Perhaps because it is still new to me. The everything/nothingness...the vastness of it all makes my heart ache. It also makes it sing. There is such a thin line between joy and pain. I mean really. They seem to overlap each other constantly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to go sledding. Hmm...maybe I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No presumtions.&lt;br /&gt;No expectations.&lt;br /&gt;Only love.&lt;br /&gt;peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8531105233697590485?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8531105233697590485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8531105233697590485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8531105233697590485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8531105233697590485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/04/random-sleepless-thoughts.html' title='Random Sleepless Thoughts...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8697016764027204946</id><published>2010-04-08T14:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T15:03:06.985-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, for now</title><content type='html'>They say the sweetest winds blow across the south &lt;br /&gt;In a way I agree with this.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I'm broken down, I find a place to fall&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the old oak by the pond.&lt;br /&gt;There is hidden treasure in the faces of home&lt;br /&gt;Comfort, and leisure, and a pillow to bone.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't stay here forever&lt;br /&gt;I feel I will waste away&lt;br /&gt;Like a fruit rotting on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;I know you don't understand&lt;br /&gt;And I know you don't agree&lt;br /&gt;But please, before I go&lt;br /&gt;Hold me close and kiss my head and show me your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Let me hear your laugh&lt;br /&gt;And let me see your smile.&lt;br /&gt;I want to tuck the memory as deeply as I can&lt;br /&gt;For one day I will need it when I'm in the shadow lands.&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget me&lt;br /&gt;Some were born with roots&lt;br /&gt;And some were born with none&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was like you&lt;br /&gt;But in another way I don't.&lt;br /&gt;Because if I was I would never see a thing&lt;br /&gt;Half of my heart would be hanging on the stars.&lt;br /&gt;Just because I like to move&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't mean that I don't care&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't mean I won't take you with me.&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't mean that I am running.&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't mean that I am lost.&lt;br /&gt;But how could you understand that&lt;br /&gt;When you're fine where you're at?&lt;br /&gt;Come with me and I'll buy you a gift&lt;br /&gt;On you I'll spend my last dime.&lt;br /&gt;Let our words be few and our feet be swift&lt;br /&gt;Because I don't have much time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8697016764027204946?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8697016764027204946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8697016764027204946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8697016764027204946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8697016764027204946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/04/goodbye-for-now.html' title='Goodbye, for now'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3736636914675318951</id><published>2010-04-01T13:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T14:03:33.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear God,</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry that it has been awhile since we have spoken. I have been so distracted by this mysterious thing called life, but that is no excuse. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you and I love you. Sometimes I question why on earth you put me on this crazy planet, but I know that no matter what happens I can count on you to be there for me. People fail, but you never do. Throughout my whole life you have always kept your hand on me. There are so many times that I could have been harmed physically, spiritually, or emotionally and you protected me by your grace. So many times my heart was broken and I felt no one understood me and I reached for you and you comforted me with your acceptance and love. So many times I have fallen short and made mistakes and you offered me the most beautiful thing of all: forgiveness and a new start. I'm not asking you for any of those things today. I don't want to ask you for anything. I simply want to thank you for this beautiful day. I want to thank you for your love. I want to sing a song just for you and I want to let you know that even though I may not say it like I should, you were my FIRST love and you still are...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3736636914675318951?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3736636914675318951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3736636914675318951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3736636914675318951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3736636914675318951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-god.html' title='Dear God,'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1115073169737254206</id><published>2010-03-30T09:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T10:01:28.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's When I Was Young and I Didn't Give a Damn</title><content type='html'>My three vices are nail polish, food, and itunes. Not in that order. However, I have been stuck in a bit of a rut lately with my music purchasing. The only thing I seem to be interested in listening to is Brandi Carlile ("The Story") and The Avett Brothers ("I and Love and You"). I love it, okay? However, I am finally getting a little burned out and to go with my fresh start I want to get fresh with some new bands. I need music that will get me motivated, help me to forget, and occasionally to let me sulk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While listening to pandora.com one day, (I would streamline pandora through my veins if I could) I heard a song that took me waaay back to 8th grade. That's right. Ode to My Family, by the Cranberries. I forgot how much I used to love them and now I have been lusting for their ethereal sounds. When I was about 14 years old, I was a HUGE fan of Ms. Delores with her throaty, lovely brogue. In fact, she may of helped teach me how to sing. She could sing a song about monkey poop and make it sound mysterious. They have a double disc greatest hits and I think this will be my first purchase. Suggestions...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1115073169737254206?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1115073169737254206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1115073169737254206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1115073169737254206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1115073169737254206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/03/wheres-when-i-was-young-and-i-didnt.html' title='Where&apos;s When I Was Young and I Didn&apos;t Give a Damn'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6657235979542078339</id><published>2010-03-25T16:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T17:48:20.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Ready...</title><content type='html'>It is hard to believe that in a little more than three weeks I am going to be on a plane on my way to Deadhorse, Alaska. When I think of myself this time last year, I never would have IMAGINED that this is the path I am now walking towards. I am afraid, but I am going to do it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to prepare myself for this welcomed shock to my system, although I am sure I can never fully "prepare myself". I wonder, how conditioned am I to society and to civilization? How self sustaining am I REALLY? What will it be like when everything I know is stripped? How durable am I? What am I really made of? How will I rebuild myself? Admidetly these last few months have been difficult for me. I have lost someone in my life that I dearly loved. I have sold or given away the majority of my posessions. Something I didn't think would bother me, but kind of did. There have been money problems and all sorts of issues. I have always been a seeker, a survivor and of course I still am but...phew there have been lots of tears. I bet I have cried more in the last three months than I have in the last three years. I like to think of it as "fortifying the ground"...the ground inside me that is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All things happen for a purpose, right? I believe if we really seek healing, understanding, knowledge, truth, the universe gives us what we need...even if it's not what we expect. I've always believed that hearts are built much stronger than we often have in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will it feel like when my feet hit the soil, or should I say snow? How will life change for me? I have no idea what the future holds. That is kind of intoxicating though, isn't it? At least to me. The beauty of uncertainty. The beauty of uncharted territory. Of open plans. Of blank pages. Of clean slates. Of silence. Of clean air. It's funny that considering I am going to be so isolated, my biggest concerns seem to be social. I am serious. I am quirky. I am weird. I have never lived with anyone that I wasn't sleeping with or who wasn't family. (With the exception of my best friend, who you might as well call family.) I never had the whole "going away to college experience." I have been working since I was 15 years old. I never went to summer camp or anything like that as a kid. I think I was in girl scouts for a year in elementery school. I barely remember it. I barely remember a lot of things. There are large chunks of my life that I don't remember. I'm not exagerrating. I'm not sure if I have a horrible memory or if it's some odd defense mechanism I have developed. Perhaps a combination of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My life feels like one jumbled mass. Like the streets in Boston. The roads paved inside. How did they get there? How do I unpave them? Do I want to? Like a container full of puzzle pieces. Where do I start? It's weird. There are parts of me that are quite social (maybe musically or artistically) then there are other parts of me that have always felt like kind of an out cast, out of place. Parts I hide. I am quite shy really and I admit that I have a fear of being judged--something that stems from the way I was raised. It is my hope to make awesome new friendships. But uh...my heart pounds in nervousness. What will I say? What will they think of this Tennessean/Illinoian hybrid with her love of converse, sweet tea, soul food, her twangish songs, her weird sayings like "hankering" and "fixin to"? What will they think of her awkwardness? I guess there is no need to dramatize it. Everything starts with a hello, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should give you a sort of answer to the question I have been getting over and over since making this desicion. "Why are you going there?" What are my goals? Mainly? Self improvement. I am going to write more, read more, pray more, work more. Go out of my comfort zone, challenge myself. Meet more people. Hopefully laugh a little more. After all the rain... I welcome those 60+ odd days of sun. Bring it on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6657235979542078339?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6657235979542078339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6657235979542078339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6657235979542078339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6657235979542078339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/03/getting-ready.html' title='Getting Ready...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1577188252371192674</id><published>2010-03-23T10:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T10:50:27.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Despite What You May Think</title><content type='html'>Strong.&lt;br /&gt;A tiny seed&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped up in frozen mud&lt;br /&gt;Spring will come.&lt;br /&gt;Strong.&lt;br /&gt;Winds of change shake the leaves&lt;br /&gt;But roots grow further down&lt;br /&gt;Transformation comes.&lt;br /&gt;Strong.&lt;br /&gt;Shattered pieces &lt;br /&gt;fly wildly in the wind&lt;br /&gt;Clear the ground to start again.&lt;br /&gt;Strong&lt;br /&gt;Faith will fade&lt;br /&gt;in things not built to last&lt;br /&gt;It only means I'm moving towards the truth&lt;br /&gt;Strong.&lt;br /&gt;Storm clouds of emotion shift&lt;br /&gt;Filling my head with fire and rain&lt;br /&gt;Take me higher in a plane&lt;br /&gt;Sun it shines above the pain.&lt;br /&gt;Strong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1577188252371192674?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1577188252371192674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1577188252371192674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1577188252371192674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1577188252371192674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2010/03/despite-what-you-may-think.html' title='Despite What You May Think'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4194743772054295229</id><published>2009-12-22T11:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T11:41:50.313-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled II</title><content type='html'>If it is the truth you seek,&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are clear as water.&lt;br /&gt;And if it is strength you need,&lt;br /&gt;My will is steel indeed.&lt;br /&gt;And if it is tenderness,&lt;br /&gt;My arms are soft and warm.&lt;br /&gt;And if it is love, my dear,&lt;br /&gt;My heart is a harbor in the storm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it is wisdom you yearn for,&lt;br /&gt;Read the brail upon my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;And when life leaves you cold,&lt;br /&gt;Kiss the sunlight in my soul.&lt;br /&gt;I am all of these things&lt;br /&gt;For you, everything and more.&lt;br /&gt;There is a song that inside me sings&lt;br /&gt;A song I want you to hear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4194743772054295229?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4194743772054295229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4194743772054295229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4194743772054295229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4194743772054295229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/12/untitled-ii.html' title='Untitled II'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-913120134684985528</id><published>2009-12-22T10:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T11:11:17.069-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>Accepting love by faith—&lt;br /&gt;It is not something for cowards. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I won’t lay down in safety&lt;br /&gt;I won’t listen to their whispers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will walk among the thorns&lt;br /&gt;I will sing lions to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I rest peacefully&lt;br /&gt;When all of my blood is screaming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something I believe in&lt;br /&gt;And I will not stop until I reach you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-913120134684985528?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/913120134684985528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=913120134684985528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/913120134684985528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/913120134684985528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/12/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5579168080538943749</id><published>2009-12-06T12:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T12:32:25.832-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream in Red (lyrics)</title><content type='html'>Falling stars light up the sky&lt;br /&gt;It's never too late to try.&lt;br /&gt;And phoenix birds aren't scared of fire.&lt;br /&gt;It's never too late to rise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady, please don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;Rest your aching head.&lt;br /&gt;Others, they may dream in white&lt;br /&gt;But you dream in red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers grow in garbage heaps.&lt;br /&gt;It's never so much it'll make you sink.&lt;br /&gt;When you live your life with passion and love,&lt;br /&gt;You're bound to draw a little blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lady, please don't cry.&lt;br /&gt;Rest your aching head.&lt;br /&gt;Others, they may dream in white&lt;br /&gt;But you dream in red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others, they may dream in white&lt;br /&gt;But you dream in red.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5579168080538943749?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5579168080538943749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5579168080538943749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5579168080538943749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5579168080538943749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/12/dream-in-red-lyrics.html' title='Dream in Red (lyrics)'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1949851012889952369</id><published>2009-12-06T12:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T12:29:50.271-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Must Walk Alone (lyrics)</title><content type='html'>The faith in your heart&lt;br /&gt;Was beautiful and pure.&lt;br /&gt;It moved me&lt;br /&gt;Into wanting to know more.&lt;br /&gt;Then you fooled me&lt;br /&gt;Into walking with you.&lt;br /&gt;The you schooled me&lt;br /&gt;You taught me how to live and what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I must walk alone.&lt;br /&gt;There are things I must find out on my own.&lt;br /&gt;And if you stand beside me,&lt;br /&gt;You know I'll be grateful to you.&lt;br /&gt;And if you leave me stranded, &lt;br /&gt;You know I'll still do what I need to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to find out who I am.&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to find my own way to stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried on&lt;br /&gt;Religion and philosophy.&lt;br /&gt;I tried on everything and everyone but me.&lt;br /&gt;I was repressing&lt;br /&gt;To satisfy and play a role&lt;br /&gt;Then I started digressing&lt;br /&gt;From the hot poker in my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I must walk alone.&lt;br /&gt;There's things I need to find out on my own.&lt;br /&gt;And if you stand beside me,&lt;br /&gt;You know I'll be grateful to you.&lt;br /&gt;I hate to have to leave you,&lt;br /&gt;But still I must do what I need to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to find out who I am.&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to find my own way to stand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1949851012889952369?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1949851012889952369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1949851012889952369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1949851012889952369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1949851012889952369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-must-walk-alone-lyrics.html' title='I Must Walk Alone (lyrics)'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8350214590368480175</id><published>2009-12-04T14:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T14:15:49.545-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wild Heart</title><content type='html'>I’m getting used to the sting in my eyes&lt;br /&gt;The anchor in my stomach&lt;br /&gt;And the sinister ticking of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The push and the pull of your wild heart&lt;br /&gt;Sets me free&lt;br /&gt;But makes me so tired&lt;br /&gt;How long until you hold me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew that I could be so strong&lt;br /&gt;That I could stand on a rock&lt;br /&gt;That I could love you so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding this light all alone in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;How long until you find me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there’s no use in standing here&lt;br /&gt;Nauseous and wet&lt;br /&gt;There’s no use in waiting&lt;br /&gt;If I’ll never be met.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8350214590368480175?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8350214590368480175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8350214590368480175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8350214590368480175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8350214590368480175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/12/wild-heart.html' title='Wild Heart'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8061319631280936474</id><published>2009-09-23T21:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T21:35:19.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Song Lyrics.</title><content type='html'>Shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody talks to much.&lt;br /&gt;Words are poison that can squander love.&lt;br /&gt;Bitter phrases pierce your memories,&lt;br /&gt;Diluting their purity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aint that a shame?&lt;br /&gt;It's such a shame.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing ever stays the same.&lt;br /&gt;Everything must change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People think they know it all.&lt;br /&gt;About a million books could fill my walls&lt;br /&gt;With ideas, concepts, rules, and thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;It only proves that we all feel lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aint that a shame?&lt;br /&gt;Seems like a shame.&lt;br /&gt;Do we really know anything?&lt;br /&gt;Have we learned a thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing worth fighting for&lt;br /&gt;Is love that sings outside your door.&lt;br /&gt;It's the only thing that stays when everything fades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a pretty picture.&lt;br /&gt;It captured our love that day.&lt;br /&gt;I want to crawl inside it.&lt;br /&gt;I want to live there eternally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aint that a shame?&lt;br /&gt;It's such a shame.&lt;br /&gt;You traded your love for pain...&lt;br /&gt;All your love for pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should trade pain for love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8061319631280936474?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8061319631280936474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8061319631280936474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8061319631280936474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8061319631280936474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/09/more-song-lyrics.html' title='More Song Lyrics.'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4772125105940167323</id><published>2009-09-23T21:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T21:29:04.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy Confidence</title><content type='html'>What's this at my feet?&lt;br /&gt;It's hungry, un-fed fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain is coming down in sheets.&lt;br /&gt;I'd call you, but you're gone at the beach.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't want to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your words of splendor and eloquence&lt;br /&gt;Silver coated phrases of decadence&lt;br /&gt;My heart is buried under the weight of your easy confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited for your package to come.&lt;br /&gt;It got delayed then never showed up.&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't want to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waited at the station for hours&lt;br /&gt;You said you'd meet me there, but instead you sent flowers.&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't want to talk.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your words of splendor and eloquence&lt;br /&gt;Silver plated phrases of decadence&lt;br /&gt;My heart is buried under the weight of your easy confidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dark peace of solitude has it's own beauty, I suppose&lt;br /&gt;But so do you.&lt;br /&gt;No I don't want to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to talk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4772125105940167323?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4772125105940167323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4772125105940167323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4772125105940167323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4772125105940167323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/09/easy-confidence.html' title='Easy Confidence'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-982166385558672804</id><published>2009-04-13T12:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T12:43:58.075-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Pill</title><content type='html'>I had a dream the other night about that famous scene in the Matrix. You know, the famous red pill/blue pill scene... What a bizarre thing to dream about out of the blue. (No pun intended.) I felt moved by it so I wrote a little ditty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red Pill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up with a pounding head&lt;br /&gt;Feeling like a stranger in my own bed&lt;br /&gt;I walk into empty places&lt;br /&gt;All filled up with empty faces&lt;br /&gt;And I wonder if there's a different life instead.&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing what I can&lt;br /&gt;To figure out who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I relented to slavery?&lt;br /&gt;They put it in a pretty package&lt;br /&gt;And spoon fed me.&lt;br /&gt;That's the way they condescend;&lt;br /&gt;They make you think it's good for you&lt;br /&gt;Until on it you depend.&lt;br /&gt;I've gotta strike the root.&lt;br /&gt;I've gotta figure out the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder just how deep it goes&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what I really know&lt;br /&gt;Am I willing to spend everything I have&lt;br /&gt;To get it back?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hold two paths in my hand&lt;br /&gt;One represents the life I love&lt;br /&gt;And one I don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;Tell me, which way should I go?&lt;br /&gt;Am I willing to unpave every path&lt;br /&gt;And unearth every road?&lt;br /&gt;Do I have the guts&lt;br /&gt;To break every crutch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder just how deep it goes&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what I really know&lt;br /&gt;Am I willing to spend everything I have&lt;br /&gt;To get it back?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s428.photobucket.com/albums/qq6/steffaronie/?action=view&amp;current=matrix.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i428.photobucket.com/albums/qq6/steffaronie/matrix.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-982166385558672804?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/982166385558672804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=982166385558672804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/982166385558672804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/982166385558672804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/04/red-pill.html' title='Red Pill'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5479407630679327767</id><published>2009-04-08T13:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T13:05:18.292-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Tennessee,</title><content type='html'>This is my voice&lt;br /&gt;This is my song&lt;br /&gt;This is my heart&lt;br /&gt;And it aint wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my dreams&lt;br /&gt;These are my plans&lt;br /&gt;Please just leave me be&lt;br /&gt;If you can't take me for what I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't apologize&lt;br /&gt;I can't run and hide&lt;br /&gt;I can't compromise&lt;br /&gt;Just what I am inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't play a role&lt;br /&gt;And I can't pretend&lt;br /&gt;So, please just leave me be&lt;br /&gt;If you can't take me for what I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried on religion&lt;br /&gt;And philosophies&lt;br /&gt;I've tried on everything&lt;br /&gt;Everything but me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that you don't like it&lt;br /&gt;But I'll give it to you straight,&lt;br /&gt;The life I used to live&lt;br /&gt;Is now the one I've grown to hate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't put me in a box&lt;br /&gt;Please don't shut me out.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to offend you &lt;br /&gt;Because that's not what I'm about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't strong arm me &lt;br /&gt;Into your point of view.&lt;br /&gt;Don't do unto me&lt;br /&gt;What I would never do to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being judged&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of feeling bad&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of dreaming about &lt;br /&gt;A life that I don't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to go and get it&lt;br /&gt;All the things I know are mine&lt;br /&gt;Please just get out of my way&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm running out of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my voice&lt;br /&gt;This is my song&lt;br /&gt;This is my heart&lt;br /&gt;And it aint wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5479407630679327767?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5479407630679327767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5479407630679327767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5479407630679327767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5479407630679327767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-tennessee.html' title='Dear Tennessee,'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6895707258621484470</id><published>2009-04-08T09:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T13:05:45.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Multiplication</title><content type='html'>I've multiplied all the things said by&lt;br /&gt;all the things done &lt;br /&gt;and it's an empty sum &lt;br /&gt;when actions are none.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6895707258621484470?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6895707258621484470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6895707258621484470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6895707258621484470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6895707258621484470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/04/multiplication.html' title='Multiplication'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-9020040557812603866</id><published>2009-04-05T15:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T09:28:22.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Push Pops for me Please!</title><content type='html'>I hate being an adult. I hate paying bills, worrying about carbs, worrying about my car and other maintenance issues, going to work and being nice to people I don't like, curbing what I say to make sure it's always appropriate, and worrying about what extremity of mine may next become arthritic. I miss singing as loud as I want wherever I want with absolutely no regard to who was listening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to eat as many bomb pops as I want. I miss when the summer felt like years long and a day actually felt like a day. I miss not wanting to go to sleep because I didn't want the day to end and waking up way too early because I was excited for the next day to begin. I miss being silly and saying whatever I want because I have and excuse..."I don't know any better." I miss all of my fears being curbed with a simple kiss on the forehead. I miss laughing a hundred times a day and thinking everything was safe and fun. When you're little you think that being an adult is just sort of something that happens one day. But then you become one and realize that you don't feel like one at all. I don't want to be 27. I want to be 5. Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, change is the nature of the world right? If everything stayed exactly the same, nothing would ever grow. Seeds wouldn't become flowers...blah blah blah. I'm gonna go eat my low-fat fudge bar and shut up now......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-9020040557812603866?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/9020040557812603866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=9020040557812603866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/9020040557812603866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/9020040557812603866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/04/push-pops-for-me-please.html' title='Push Pops for me Please!'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3458379959124951967</id><published>2009-04-02T13:18:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T09:21:32.751-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Attachments from the Buddhist Perspective</title><content type='html'>For the record, I do not claim to be a Buddhist, but I adore Buddhist philosophy. I consider myself a Christian but I believe that a lot of concepts in Eastern thought are useful. I don't claim to be an expert by any means, but I've found this thought to be helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the story. You've been here, I've been here. You meet someone. They are great, beautiful, and you get along with them fantastic. You start making all of these plans in your mind. The relation could be friendship, romantic, or family.  Then something happens. They move or meet someone else or stop caring. They move on but there you are, stuck with all of this emotional baggage. What do you do? How do you get rid of it? How do you appease it? Why do we always desire things that we cannot have? Well, perhaps it can be as simple as changing your perspective. The mind is very powerful. Who says that it cannot be honed and strengthened just like any other part of us? We all have had experiences like this. Often times we end up repeating destructive patterns that make us unhappy in the search of outward fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are attached to something, the mind becomes excited and full of unrealistic expectations for someone else to fulfill something within yourself. Attachment is self-serving and we often gloss over fact with fantasy when we are going for what we want. This is usually in the form of another person but sometimes it can be applied to other objects like food. But attachment is not true happiness because you cannot control what someone else says or does and emotions in and of themselves are fleeting. If someone else changes their views or their opinion or withdraws their attention, you are not happy anymore. Yes, we eat and get full...but of course we will become hungry again. (I wish I wasn't hungry as much..hee hee) But, this is not true happiness. Desire in and of itself does not equal happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The consequences of attachments are often not peace and contentment but dissatisfaction and more desire. Attachment clouds our mind and prevents us from seeing its faults. And since the nature of the world is impermanence and change the object of our attachment may not always be useful or pleasing. External things cannot bring lasting contentment. Until we are truly happy within we will repeat the same patterns of attachment which is really only a distraction for how we feel inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is useful to think about death. Some people think that it is morbid and scary to consider, but it is only a part of life. When we think about how we will not always be here and that we cannot take anything or anyone with us, it helps us to enjoy what is in the moment without projecting unfair expectations onto someone else. Not letting go of something only harms ourselves and we are simply wasting precious energy. That energy could be applied to bigger and more positive things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consider the fact that the object of your attachment is not you. You are separate from it. Feel the sadness but realize that it doesn't have to become a part of you. It is not a part of you. It does not own you and in and of itself it cannot make you better or worse. You are not it. You were perfectly fine before it and will be perfectly fine afterward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look beneath the surface of things. Realize that a lot of things are not what they seem. We often "make" them what they are by the thoughts that we project unto them in our own minds. Consider a very attractive person for instance. Imagine being able to see beneath their skin, beneath their eyes.. Think about the blood, the vessels, the bones, and the intestines. Think of the organs and everything else beneath the surface. Outer beauty is fleeting and it does perish. There is only one beauty that is lasting and that is the beauty of the soul. This is not to say that beauty should not be enjoyed, but we should not worship it or attempt to be validated by it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. That is my thought for the day. A lengthy one I know, but what can I say? I believe that sometimes we can be our own therapists.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3458379959124951967?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3458379959124951967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3458379959124951967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3458379959124951967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3458379959124951967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/04/attachments-from-buddhist-perspective.html' title='Attachments from the Buddhist Perspective'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6832999414264358279</id><published>2009-03-31T19:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T19:44:28.998-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Things Matter</title><content type='html'>Although there are many books that have moved me in different ways, I have one book that means more to me than probably any other book. It is a slender, gold book of 86 pages. It was given to my mother by my grandmother when she was young and was later passed on to me. It is called, "Apples of Gold" and it is a compilation of quotations from different people throughout history. It talks about the "fruits of the spirit"  (Love, Joy, Peace, Long suffering, Gentleness, Goodness, Faith, Meekness, and Temperance) Here is part of the original inscription that my Grandmother wrote to my mother:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know that you will enjoy reading this. It has been a favorite of mine for many years and I find the quotations timeless and inspiring."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, my mother writes an inscription for me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will always cherish this book. My mother gave it to me and now I'm giving it to you. It is full of wisdom, peace, and love. If you read it every day it will inspire you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've been thinking about becoming a bit more serious about this blogging business. And therefore I am starting a new tradition. It will be called "Quote of the day from Grandma's book." I will try to write one every day, even though knowing me I may miss a few. I hope you glean from it as much as my family apparently has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will post them on the right side of the screen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6832999414264358279?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6832999414264358279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6832999414264358279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6832999414264358279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6832999414264358279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/03/simple-things-matter.html' title='Simple Things Matter'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-53708164393578887</id><published>2009-03-20T09:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T13:12:47.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Better or Bitter</title><content type='html'>I was going through all my little posts on here and geesh...they're like a time capsule of hurt feelings. I made myself nauseous with all the love talk. Just goes to show that time CAN make us better or bitter. Okay, so it's a cheesy quote, but true nonetheless. I DO have a lot of other things in my mind that I think about. (Food, politics, music, my cat, chocolate fudge double scoop in a waffle cone...) Oh yeah and did I mention the RECORD I'm making???!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to start doing this more. Especially considering I can type a lot faster than I can write and I always have some sort of rambling in my head... But as for now, I've gotta get going. Spring done sprung and I've gotta go play in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tootles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-53708164393578887?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/53708164393578887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=53708164393578887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/53708164393578887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/53708164393578887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2009/03/better-or-bitter.html' title='Better or Bitter'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1234164433288348949</id><published>2008-09-14T18:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T09:24:22.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not fixing anymore</title><content type='html'>Attention:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steph's services are currently out of order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She will remain out of service until the following thing is aquired:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One true heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that is not acquired, you can find her down in Florida drinking gin with her twelve cats, listening to old Hank Williams records.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S It is a joke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1234164433288348949?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1234164433288348949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1234164433288348949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1234164433288348949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1234164433288348949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/09/not-fixing-anymore.html' title='Not fixing anymore'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-6829866254746849493</id><published>2008-07-03T21:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T21:26:07.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragility</title><content type='html'>I'll be strong like a flower&lt;br /&gt;That blooms in the spring&lt;br /&gt;Pluck off all my petals&lt;br /&gt;But it cannot destroy me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around this time next year&lt;br /&gt;All of the strorms and rain&lt;br /&gt;Will array me in new colors&lt;br /&gt;And I'll be born again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no use in crying&lt;br /&gt;Over spilled theories&lt;br /&gt;There's no use in trying&lt;br /&gt;For those who do not hear me.&lt;br /&gt;There's no use in dying&lt;br /&gt;Over things that cannot kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these emotions&lt;br /&gt;All the pain and doubt&lt;br /&gt;All of the sadness&lt;br /&gt;Passes through me like clouds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my soul is the blue sky&lt;br /&gt;And clouds are so fleeting&lt;br /&gt;Why hold myself ransom&lt;br /&gt;When I'm already free?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no use in crying&lt;br /&gt;Over spilled theories&lt;br /&gt;There's no use in trying&lt;br /&gt;For those who will not hear me.&lt;br /&gt;There's no use in dying&lt;br /&gt;For things that cannot kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm learning&lt;br /&gt;As a woman&lt;br /&gt;How much strength there is in &lt;br /&gt;Fragility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-6829866254746849493?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/6829866254746849493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=6829866254746849493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6829866254746849493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/6829866254746849493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/07/fragility.html' title='Fragility'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3798892752814308209</id><published>2008-06-28T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T14:15:00.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Useless</title><content type='html'>I made the shot&lt;br /&gt;Watched it go in&lt;br /&gt;Damn&lt;br /&gt;Faulty scoreboard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3798892752814308209?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3798892752814308209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3798892752814308209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3798892752814308209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3798892752814308209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/useless.html' title='Useless'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5254839814137889216</id><published>2008-06-23T23:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T23:37:05.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pulpit</title><content type='html'>I look towards the pulpit&lt;br /&gt;And see remnants of another time&lt;br /&gt;I know he loves his Jesus,&lt;br /&gt;So why can't he love mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So full of words and phrases&lt;br /&gt;The hungry are just outside the door&lt;br /&gt;I stare at empty church pews&lt;br /&gt;And wonder just what for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's because they're all wicked",&lt;br /&gt;He says with a grin&lt;br /&gt;"Funny" I think, &lt;br /&gt;"He doesn't recognize his own sin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I move up towards the altar&lt;br /&gt;I smell persimmon and sage&lt;br /&gt;But the fragrance is interuppted&lt;br /&gt;By the tearing of a page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn my head to look&lt;br /&gt;and someone pushes me down&lt;br /&gt;"No use aaking questions here,&lt;br /&gt;We never turn around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all march like an army&lt;br /&gt;To an uncertain fate&lt;br /&gt;But I try to find my bible &lt;br /&gt;Outside by the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The preacher follows me out&lt;br /&gt;And I try to find his eyes&lt;br /&gt;But they are hidden &lt;br /&gt;Beneath a heavy veil of tyranny and lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that he can't help it&lt;br /&gt;I can see the fear&lt;br /&gt;I reach out in sympathy&lt;br /&gt;But he refuses to get near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No use being frightened"&lt;br /&gt;He tells me as I weep&lt;br /&gt;"Cleanse yourself and go back inside&lt;br /&gt;With all the other sheep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reach up to touch my face&lt;br /&gt;to see if there is mud&lt;br /&gt;And was blinded by a vision&lt;br /&gt;Of a wooden cross and blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think that I'll stay dirty"&lt;br /&gt;I say in a broken tone&lt;br /&gt;"I want to go to heaven,&lt;br /&gt;But I don't want to go alone."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5254839814137889216?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5254839814137889216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5254839814137889216' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5254839814137889216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5254839814137889216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/pulpit.html' title='The Pulpit'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3208623158875828560</id><published>2008-06-23T22:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T22:29:51.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cast Your Pearls</title><content type='html'>Don't cast your pearls to the swine&lt;br /&gt;Don't sell your soul for a scrap of bread&lt;br /&gt;His love is a paradyme&lt;br /&gt;His words are fat&lt;br /&gt;But his soul unfed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see yourself through a broken mirror&lt;br /&gt;You see yourself in a foggy haze&lt;br /&gt;Look to the left and the coast is clear&lt;br /&gt;But you're looking at death &lt;br /&gt;When you look in his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see you through the eyes of a child&lt;br /&gt;I see you through the eyes of God&lt;br /&gt;Slow disintegration of your smile&lt;br /&gt;And your heart that screams&lt;br /&gt;From the chopping block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your only love and your only pain&lt;br /&gt;Your only love pulls you out of your head&lt;br /&gt;You drink the sorrow in the name of change&lt;br /&gt;Instead of loving yourself instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3208623158875828560?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3208623158875828560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3208623158875828560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3208623158875828560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3208623158875828560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/cast-your-pearls.html' title='Cast Your Pearls'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3239077539993345416</id><published>2008-06-22T23:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T00:05:49.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Dads...</title><content type='html'>I've been living with my father for the past couple of months, which probably sounds lame but it's actually very wonderful. My dad left my life when I was 8 and I never saw him again until I was 19. For years I was deeply saddened, angry, and confused by this...obviously. I was a total daddies girl when I was young. When we first reunited I still had a lot of anger and misunderstanding towards him and I completely gave him hell. But now as adults having the opportunity to get to know him again and be there to spend time with him during the sunset period in his life is awesome. I am hearing his side of the story, which I never heard. It's touching to learn what a truly good man my dad really is. Him and my mom are actually friends now which is something that I never believed would happen. It's amazing to me how things can come around full circle and heal. I no longer question why it is that I had to go through such a tough time. I really know that it shaped who I am, which I am actually grateful for. Who has time for anger and regrets when there is so much love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the day today cleaning out his spare bedroom, which will soon be my room. (finally...no more couch) He came across some old pictures of us and my brother. I actually started crying. I somehow managed to kind of black out a large chunk of my childhood. Seriously....I do not remember much of it. I've heard that it's some sort of defence mechanism. Anyways...These pictures actually jogged my memory again and I am so happy to have some of my memories back! I kind of feel as if a piece of me has returned. It's a difficult feeling to explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...here's to dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=viewImage&amp;friendID=184062582&amp;albumID=29059&amp;imageID=24622501"&gt;&lt;img src="http://hotlink.myspacecdn.com/images01/80/d7bf70e6158c09301d89097aee452287/m.jpg" alt="My dad was a 70s king" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3239077539993345416?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3239077539993345416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3239077539993345416' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3239077539993345416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3239077539993345416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/ode-to-dads.html' title='Ode to Dads...'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-3008499053200435915</id><published>2008-06-18T16:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T17:04:45.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence, please</title><content type='html'>Everyone talks too much&lt;br /&gt;Words can be a disease&lt;br /&gt;They squander the love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most good things&lt;br /&gt;Rot and turn poisonous&lt;br /&gt;So be careful&lt;br /&gt;With your tounge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone acts so happy&lt;br /&gt;Then they cry themselves to sleep at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is just a fallacy&lt;br /&gt;So, don't talk to me&lt;br /&gt;Just hold me close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand and we can sail away&lt;br /&gt;On a white wave of time&lt;br /&gt;Forget the fear&lt;br /&gt;Forget everything&lt;br /&gt;Just look into my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone loves to fight&lt;br /&gt;They hold their candles to the night&lt;br /&gt;They burn them til the end&lt;br /&gt;All of those candles could outshine the sun&lt;br /&gt;But we're too busy being right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand and we can sail away &lt;br /&gt;On a white wave of time&lt;br /&gt;Forget the fear&lt;br /&gt;Forget everything&lt;br /&gt;Just look into my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-3008499053200435915?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/3008499053200435915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=3008499053200435915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3008499053200435915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/3008499053200435915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/silence-please_18.html' title='Silence, please'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-8876410142228279399</id><published>2008-06-09T10:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T10:42:36.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Indifference</title><content type='html'>To you it's just a word with four letters&lt;br /&gt;To you it is only flesh and chemicals&lt;br /&gt;To you it is simply something that happened to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indifference is laziness&lt;br /&gt;Indifference is hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just do me a favor.&lt;br /&gt;Do not continue to blame others.&lt;br /&gt;You lock your heart inside your bedroom&lt;br /&gt;While love stands outside crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot live in a time capsule&lt;br /&gt;I cannot sit on a strand&lt;br /&gt;I cannot wait&lt;br /&gt;For you to finally decide&lt;br /&gt;That I'm important enough&lt;br /&gt;To be in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indifference lets things die.&lt;br /&gt;Indifference stares blankly at a perfect sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were someone else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-8876410142228279399?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/8876410142228279399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=8876410142228279399' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8876410142228279399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/8876410142228279399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/06/indifference.html' title='Indifference'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-1019412160976290758</id><published>2008-05-03T00:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T00:44:06.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on love</title><content type='html'>Has there ever been a person in your life that you adored, that you loved completely and totally, that you knew with the vision in your heart was the one that belonged with you? This person was the one who you burned for, who inspired you, who kept you awake in the night with visions of their face. Have you ever felt a love so deeply that it stripped away every facade and false pretense and cut straight through you? A love so intense that it opened you up made you cry all the tears you could stand? A love so true that the joy you feel in their presence made you smile with all of the sunlight in your heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have felt this kind of love and if you have, you immediately will understand what I mean. If not, you may take in the words and appreciate them, but you will never understand unless you experience it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The love that I felt for this person made me feel so vulnerable, not weak, just so incredibly bare like an open palm. It's both horrible and lovely at the same time. It's so disarming and so scary. You don't have control over yourself, the walls that you have spent your entire life building to protect yourself, fall in this person's presence. It's just this one person, who really is no different than any other person. But for some reason this person said hello one day or smiled at you and you could feel yourself spiraling. You try to catch your breath, to stand your ground, to keep yourself from losing control, but the moment they kiss you or speak your name--it's involuntary.&lt;br /&gt;Love cannot be possessed. It is a mystery and a precious gift. All you can do is hold it when it's near and kiss it when you feel it inside. You cannot change it or stop it either. It moves with it's subtle, strong force. It takes no regard for time, circumstances, situations, heartaches, ambitions, or fears. It shows up and it blasts through you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst thing ever is when you feel this kind of love and yet you know that you cannot be with this person. For whatever reason you know that it's the wrong time. It's the worst hell you can feel knowing that love is requited and yet because of differences or distance or ambitions, it cannot burn. Yet it burns anyway and you cannot make it stop no matter how much you want to and how much you try not to care. Heartbreak I am convinced is the deepest sadness there is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-1019412160976290758?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/1019412160976290758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=1019412160976290758' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1019412160976290758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/1019412160976290758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/05/thoughts-on-love.html' title='Thoughts on love'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-5523934691742406504</id><published>2008-04-04T09:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T09:36:17.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to silence</title><content type='html'>My brain has been full of philosophy lately as I have decided to read or shall I say re-read Ralph Waldo Emerson’s collected works. A lot of people think his writing is too heavy, and I agree to a certain extent, but his writing is also very rich and when I read some of his essays I often get a similar feeling as when I read the Bible or other spiritual book. I’m not blaspheming the sacred; I just mean that you can really glean off of just one page or even one idea or thought of his for a long period of time. I have always loved his essays “The American Scholar” “Self Reliance” “Politics” and “Nature”. He writes different from anyone I have read really. It sounds strange but he seems to pull some kind of natural wisdom from out of himself, almost like an impressionistic painting. I think with a lot of writers it is the opposite, they pull wisdom from outside and make it theirs. I guess what I am trying to say is that he listened to himself, to his heart, and to his spirit. With that being said, I guess it makes sense that he was also a true poet. He said, “To believe that what is true in one’s own heart is true for all men, that is genius.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got me really thinking. It seems that us humans are always looking at certain people as somehow better than us or different from us. Many of us have idols in our lives, people that we look up to and wish that we could be more like. We say, “if only I had their talent” or “if only I had their discipline” or “if only I was as brave as they are”. Yadda yadda yadda. But if you cut all of the fat off and get to the bare bones aren’t we all made of the same stuff? Don’t we all have essentially the same template? I think a lot of times the reason that we look up to others is because they have the courage to voice or express their innermost being and that resonates with our own innermost being. The beautiful prose that Shakespeare wrote, don’t we essentially have access to the same inspiration that he had? I want to pose a question. Instead of wishing to be more like others, why can’t we just wish to be more like our self? Isn’t that essentially what those we look up to do anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do we attain this…this fullness of self? I am not really sure. I certainly don’t have all of the answers, but my intuitive thought is pretty simple: silence. I mean isn’t silence so under-rated? Americans are so busy all of the time; we are constantly over-stimulated with technology. It seems we have something in our eyes (phones, computers, televisions) or in our ears (music, talking, etc) from the moment we wake up until the moment we sleep. We don’t listen to ourselves much. We don’t listen to our intuition much. We don’t listen to our hearts much. We don’t even listen to our minds much. I would go as far to say that this could be the root of MANY problems in today’s culture. I’ve heard people say that American’s are self centered, but I disagree. We are not centered in ourselves at all. We are self un-centered. When do we have time to be centered in ourselves? In my experience, some of my greatest epiphanies or revelations came in moments of complete solitude. Perhaps if we weren’t constantly stuffing ourselves with false substitutes we would find within in us everything that we already need. Just a thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-5523934691742406504?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/5523934691742406504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=5523934691742406504' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5523934691742406504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/5523934691742406504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/ode-to-silence.html' title='Ode to silence'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4765169375122401358</id><published>2008-04-03T16:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T11:14:50.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My non-bucket bucket list</title><content type='html'>I had an idea the other night (or shall I say twilight) while I was tossing and turning and getting no sleep. (Hey...who said insomnia &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn't &lt;/span&gt;have it’s advantages?) It’s kind of based on a dream that I had about my best friend Sara. The details of the dream are relatively important. I don't remember much except that I came to see her and when I arrived at her house she met me at the door with this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;medieval&lt;/span&gt; looking scroll. (Is Sara my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;subconscious&lt;/span&gt; Yoda? Ha.) On the scroll she had a list of things that I needed to do before I was allowed to go back home. She did a very good job writing it (or I did...whatever) The point was to take risks and expand my horizons more. (This is lovely. I am SO in need of a little rebellion.) I don't remember everything she listed in the dream. I only remember two things she listed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.) Ride the Tilt-A-Whirl five times straight. (Yikes!)&lt;br /&gt;2.) Build a sand castle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I think it would be so much fun to actually do this! I am working on my own list now as well as taking suggestions. I will post the suggestions as I receive them. When I finish all the tasks I will post it (with pictures for proof) I would also like some ideas from you! The only rules are that they must be reasonable and they must things that I will actually be able to complete by December 31. (Keep in mind also that I am PO..and I don't mean poor, I mean PO.) Please help, and be creative! The more creative the better. (At least I think so...ah...what am I getting myself in to?) I’ll love you forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon sharing this idea with a few people I found out that it is similar to the movie "The Bucket List." I have never actually seen the movie (I'll have to now, of course.) Anyway, it's not quite the same thing. It is simply me being random and crazy. I proclaimed this to be my year of self-discovery and I may be getting way more than I bargained for. Tee-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hee&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some other additions I received today:&lt;br /&gt;3. Slash in a fountain&lt;br /&gt;4. Break a rule, any rule&lt;br /&gt;5. Swing at a park&lt;br /&gt;6. Run in any marathon&lt;br /&gt;7. Do five cartwheels (Yikes!)&lt;br /&gt;8. Dance in the rain&lt;br /&gt;9. Get ten strangers to hug you and pat you on the head&lt;br /&gt;10. Sing and play on the street corner for money.&lt;br /&gt;11. Join a talent show&lt;br /&gt;12. Eat lobster (Okay...so there is nothing strange about this...but if you knew how much I loathe seafood you would understand. Can we say giant bugs?)&lt;br /&gt;13. Take a random class at the y or some place like that (I think I'll try sewing!)&lt;br /&gt;14.) Be a people statue in the city. Stand really still until someone walks by and keep a tally of how many people you scare. (sounds fun!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4765169375122401358?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4765169375122401358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4765169375122401358' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4765169375122401358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4765169375122401358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-non-bucket-bucket-list.html' title='My non-bucket bucket list'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4205409121252288965.post-4511681690952132334</id><published>2008-04-03T16:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T16:20:10.984-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The wonder of faces</title><content type='html'>It’s amazing to me how many hundreds or thousands of people that we meet in life. We see them come and watch them go. We brush shoulders with them at work, or on the street, or in the grocery store. Sometimes their faces become familiar to us, like a part of the scenery in our day. Other faces we never see again. Out of all these beautiful people we meet, at least in my experience, there are only a select few who seem to resonate with our soul/heart. There are some people that when we see their face there is something intrinsicly familiar about them. A part of us seems to know that we want them in our life. This has happened to me with every close friendship and relationship in my life.There was one instance in particular in my experience where I was simply walking along happy in my solitude, just a plain and regular day, and I saw this person’s face for the first time and literally stopped in my tracks. It was so weird. It was as if my heart was saying "stop. you know this one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We possess an amazing inner radar. There are some people that I could talk to and talk to...just surface conversation all day long. They are nice and polite and I am nice and polite. This exchange could go on for weeks and even years but that’s all there is. Then there are others who I have talked to for thirty minutes and I felt like they had given me a piece of themselves or vice versa. My closest friends and I could go months without even speaking to one another and then when we speak again it’s as if no time has even gone by. There is one person that I knew for a month and felt so well understood by them that it was as if I had known them my whole life. I completely fell in love with them. I also felt as if I somehow "knew" this person although by all "logical" standards I didn’t know them at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some people that when they hug us or smile at us there is a sense of peace and comfort. It’s just an instinctual and automatic thing. Perhaps it is because these people are like us in some way and we just sense that about them. Or perhaps they are not like us in a lot of ways, but there is something that they must teach us, some gift that this person out of all other people must give to us. Or perhaps there is some gift that we sense we must give to them.We are so lucky and blessed to have the opportunity to love and learn from one another. There is this simple quote I heard a long time ago that says "friends are God’s way of caring for us." I like that one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4205409121252288965-4511681690952132334?l=ilikecheeze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/feeds/4511681690952132334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4205409121252288965&amp;postID=4511681690952132334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4511681690952132334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4205409121252288965/posts/default/4511681690952132334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilikecheeze.blogspot.com/2008/04/wonder-of-faces.html' title='The wonder of faces'/><author><name>sleepy jean</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15780981875219900571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qI1yJGvxXaE/TCHYhvEYPjI/AAAAAAAAADA/sA8hswI_S-g/S220/arctic+024.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
