<?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-4750134914388957391</id><updated>2011-07-29T01:41:21.451-07:00</updated><category term='film'/><category term='camp'/><title type='text'>CoUrAgE</title><subtitle type='html'>"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live."
-- Dorothy Thompson</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>161</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1628197697354409108</id><published>2010-03-07T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T19:57:38.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>If accounts are inactive for a while, will they be deleted?? EEK! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope not, but just in case, I might make a random/small post here and there. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;follow me at&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.lovediscoverygratitude.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.lovediscoverygratitude.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1628197697354409108?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1628197697354409108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1628197697354409108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1628197697354409108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1628197697354409108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/03/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1649280801853440477</id><published>2010-02-26T13:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T13:37:55.218-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a while!</title><content type='html'>And sadly, I'm pretty sure I'll be sticking to my other blog from now on. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a wonderful 3ish years with this blog and I've loved it. But my time is now fully committed to the other one. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.lovediscoverygratitude.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow me, tell me your story, enjoy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacy :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1649280801853440477?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1649280801853440477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1649280801853440477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1649280801853440477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1649280801853440477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s been a while!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3582650713142601045</id><published>2010-01-26T17:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T17:34:34.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd, but new and exciting for me!</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone! I have an exciting announcement to make (well, it's exciting for me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*DRUM ROLL* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have created a new blog page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Link at bottom of page.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT?!?! But you've been using this blog for three years!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a large nutshell to a very tiny nutshell, this is what happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for the past few years I have been using THIS blog as a diary.  While a few of my personal friends know about it, they don't read it. No one in my life reads this. Just people that started out as strangers and have become my wonderful blog friends whom I love. To those who have recently started 'following' me, thank you and I love you, too! &lt;3  Once in a while, if I post something here that I really like I share it on facebook. The past few times I've done this I have been slightly bombarded by them to begin blogging regularly. Yes, I do have this blog and I could give them the link to this one... BUT I am uncomfortable with all sorts of personal business I have posted here (thinking no one I know will see it) suddenly becoming available to whoever. I hope that makes sense. I'm just not comfortable with it. BUT DO NOT FRET! I will still use this one for talking about school, work, and thoughts that aren't what people would call 'inspirational'.  However, if you enjoy my posts about my adventures of starting yoga, my journey to become marathon fit/physically healthy/eating right, and my spiritual journey/realizations... then you will have to go there for that.The 8 posts I have there so far ARE ones from here. &lt;b&gt;BUT from now on the two blogs will have different content, and I will probably update that one much more frequently.&lt;/b&gt; So I HIGHLY suggest adding that one too if you have enjoyed my past few posts. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love all of you very much, and hope you will share my journeys with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEW BLOG:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.lovediscoverygratitude.blogspot.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3582650713142601045?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3582650713142601045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3582650713142601045' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3582650713142601045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3582650713142601045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/01/odd-but-new-and-exciting-for-me.html' title='Odd, but new and exciting for me!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8771492566905290978</id><published>2010-01-24T11:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T11:59:29.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunrise Salutations</title><content type='html'>With my curious heart and nervous mind, I wander into the large, dim room.  The walls are made of mirrors, and soft music waves through the room. Renee, my instructor, smiles and points to where I can borrow a yoga mat.  I take it and hold it like I would a security blanket. I unroll the long, thin, gentle mat down and sit on it.  Feeling self-conscious I glance to see what other people are doing.  Noticing I'm the only one with my shoes and socks on, I casually take them off and throw them off to the side. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I was in the room, I was eager for the lesson to start. Yoga has been a subject of my curiosity for quite a long time. I'm fascinated by the culture of it. From what I've read and heard of the practice, it not only does wonders for the body- but your mind.  For years I held myself back from trying anything like this.  I have never been very flexible. Before and after workouts, I stretch mildly (if I even stretch).  I think the only time I truly take time to stretch is before and after I run a half marathon. Another reason why I held myself back was due to my ego pulling me back.  For years ego told me a person had to be fit to practice yoga, I wouldn't succeed, I don't have time, blah blah blah. What was I trying to protect myself from? Finally I see those were silly excuses. Fit to do yoga? That's how some people &lt;i&gt;become&lt;/i&gt; fit!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why now? My heart told me to.  Once I realized there are no jobs available this semester, I started thinking about what else I can do with my time? Suddenly my heart put yoga in my thoughts and I became so excited! Why NOT now?!  I found a class that fits my schedule and I signed up for it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Renee began with breathing practices and eased the class into positions.  After warming up, she showed us a routine of moves (called Sun Salutations). Performing these moves is intended to wake up and energize the body.  It's also a way to "honor", "adore", or "bow to" light.  In many cultures, light is a symbol of consciousness and self-illumination. What we're doing it adoring the light and letting it in.  One thing I LOVE (even though I am loving everything about yoga so far), is Sun Salutations always begins and ends with joined hands touching the heart &lt;i&gt;(mudra)&lt;/i&gt;... this is because the heart is what can see the truth! Beautiful! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am extremely excited to see where yoga takes my mind and body.  I am grateful for another opportunity to open myself up to the world!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8771492566905290978?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8771492566905290978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8771492566905290978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8771492566905290978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8771492566905290978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/01/sunrise-salutations.html' title='Sunrise Salutations'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-391982618457481725</id><published>2010-01-17T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T22:22:19.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting Ideas</title><content type='html'>An interesting thought has stumbled upon me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Once in a while, if I really enjoyed a particular post,  I will put it on facebook. When I do this, I get extremely nervous. All sorts of thoughts buzz around, "What will my friends think? Will they think I'm full of crap? Laugh at me? What if people hate it? So embarrassing!"  But I stop myself.  That's ego talking, trying to drive me crazy with pointless thoughts!  For goodness sake, if one of my friends didn't like my post they wouldn't say a thing.  I poor my heart out here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's funny is, I get wonderful responses and I'm incredibly grateful for that.  Then one of my friends mentioned to me, and a few other people agreed- that I should consider writing a book.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A book?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to lie- that sounds like a lot of fun.  I have a story to tell, and I think there are many people that can relate to me.&lt;br /&gt;Am I ready to write it?  Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that every blog I write can contribute to it greatly. So, in a way, I've already started it without realizing it.&lt;br /&gt;But what I &lt;i&gt;feel&lt;/i&gt; is I should consider this again once I'm 1) out of college 2) after I volunteer in Africa and 3) simply live a little more life.  Even though I have technically been on my journey for 10 years, I've just began a healthy one that I'm sticking to. Only a year ago did I start this path of BEING love, gratitude and abundance.  I'm still a young grasshopper (haha, I had to through the cliche in there, I apologize)!  I have a long way to go. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is another thing I am quite excited about.  I am absolutely IN LOVE with this restaurant in San Francisco named Cafe Gratitude.  The owners, Matthew and Terces Engelhart, have become idols of mine and their ideas, beliefs, and love shared in their books and in their practices have helped me greatly on my journey.  I was browsing through &lt;a href="http://www.cafegratitude.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  when I saw that they have internship opportunities! WOW! It would be incredibly perfect if I was able to intern there... I am excited to learn more about it.  It would be a dream come true. &lt;br /&gt;:) :) :) :) :) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, goodnight everyone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-391982618457481725?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/391982618457481725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=391982618457481725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/391982618457481725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/391982618457481725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/01/interesting-ideas.html' title='Interesting Ideas'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1844180833883985654</id><published>2010-01-09T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T07:00:23.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MagicalUnlimitedStacy</title><content type='html'>A year has gone, and a new one has come.  A cycle I am grateful to continue to be a part of.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typically, this is the time people reflect on what has happened to them over the past twelve months. Times of joy, sadness, laughter, unworthiness, worthiness, abundance and uncertainty.  But after all that... to those who are still here, we have made it. We were provided for, and we still have something precious- our life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will remember the year 2009 as my new beginning. The year I decided to change my life for the better, and I am committed to continuing this journey of positive self-discovery and improvement.  Technically, it was November 2008 that I made the choice to put myself first above everything else.  To some, this will sound selfish. &lt;i&gt;What about everyone else? Your family? Friends? You think you're more important? Pssh.&lt;/i&gt;   It took me 10 years of riding a severe roller coaster of dieting, sadness, small success then failure- to realize something.  If I don't take time to love myself, how can everyone else? Sure, I heard my family and friends tell me they loved and cared about me... but did I believe them? Not quite. I felt unworthy, and that I didn't deserve love. How could anyone love a failure? Well, sometime during the beginning of November 2008 it hit me- &lt;i&gt; I am worthy of love. &lt;/i&gt; I am worthy and capable of love.  Before, I would beg the Universe/Spirit/God (etc..) to give me the determination and motivation to find a diet I would stick to, a way to exercise I would love.. and just give me these things.  Funnily enough, while watching the movie "Evan Almighty", I remember when Morgan Freeman (who was playing God, of course) said something like: "Do you think God just grants people things like courage? Or does he give a person the &lt;b&gt;opportunity&lt;/b&gt; to be these things?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE OPPORTUNITY!! Wow! I looked around my house- it was full of fruits and veggies, whole wheat bread/pasta, eggs, genuine oatmeal, a supportive family, friends that I know would help me along this journey.. I've had the support all along! I just didn't see it yet... I wasn't aware that I have had the opportunity to act this whole time! In the past I've let my ego get the best of me and told myself I couldn't do it because I always give up at some point. That success isn't for everyone. Well, that's a pile of BULLSHIT.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since, it has been my time for change.  I looked at all the food in front of me as an opportunity, "Will this help me? Or hinder me?"  If I wavered, I knew I would feel disappointed... I went to the gym even if I wasn't "in the mood".  But most importantly, I began the journey of self-discovery, and worked on how to completely love myself.  From the very start of my journey to now I look in the mirror and say what I am grateful for, and what is beautiful about me. Inside and out.  It is important to affirm these things to yourself. Be patient, stick to it, and you will begin to believe it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, I believe in YOU.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MagicalUnlimitedStacy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1844180833883985654?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1844180833883985654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1844180833883985654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1844180833883985654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1844180833883985654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/01/magicalunlimitedstacy.html' title='MagicalUnlimitedStacy'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7229229278887552784</id><published>2010-01-05T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T13:07:42.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty Ten</title><content type='html'>2010. Twenty Ten. This is how I pronounce the new decade, and I welcome the new year with wide, open arms.  This will be another exciting year of growth, change, love, risks, vulnerability, and discovery.  I'm excited that I have someone to share this year with, and that I will not be facing these battles alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I do have some resolutions.  Last year I kept some of mine, and those were to eat healthier, lose weight, and run a half marathon.  I did all those and then some. I ran three half marathons (improving my time by a crazy amount at my last one).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS YEAR I will run my fourth half marathon in March, and will be running my first full marathon in June. I would like to do a total of 2 or 3 full marathons by the end of the year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will finish losing the amount of weight I want to lose. Just 20 more pounds to go until my goal weight!! :D I CAN DO IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE A GREAT YEAR. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7229229278887552784?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7229229278887552784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7229229278887552784' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7229229278887552784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7229229278887552784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2010/01/twenty-ten.html' title='Twenty Ten'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2462085611253457795</id><published>2009-12-21T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T12:06:52.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pavement.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/pavement" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e40/TheOnlyAdam/pavement.jpg" border="0" alt="Pavement Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strapping my ipod on my arm, I break into a brisk walk.  The air is crisp, but not cold. The pavement is wet from fresh rain. It has finally cleared and I jumped at the chance for a dry run. Hopefully it wont start again while I'm running. I love rain, but I would prefer to arrive home wet with my sweat rather than soaked from rain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With every stride I feel more powerful, strong, and it thrills me. &lt;b&gt;I can do this.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2462085611253457795?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2462085611253457795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2462085611253457795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2462085611253457795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2462085611253457795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/12/pavement.html' title='Pavement.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-12352189192814361</id><published>2009-12-13T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T17:54:19.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Into the Light</title><content type='html'>My eyes are closed. As I breathe the frosty air awakens my lungs, stings my nose and my fingers and toes are tingling.  A feeling of calmness and a great knowledge of how alive I am floods over me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/snowfall" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r66/Idealsummerluvv/Mobile%20photos/122edca7827e.jpg" border="0" alt="First Snowfall 12&amp;amp;amp;#47;06 Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open my eyes and there is a sea of white. Fluffs of snow drift down... slowly falling to Earth.  I feel as if Angels are blowing me kisses as they softly land on my face, my smile becoming more brilliant with every kiss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow is peaceful.  It coats everything it sees, and makes the largest mountains look like velvety ice cream cones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though my face is cold, everything inside me is warm. Snow reminds me not only of peace, but of love.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During holidays, people emphasis the importance of showing the important people in your life that you love them.  It is supposed to be the time when you show your appreciation, and treat everyone- even strangers- with kindness and compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here is the bittersweet truth:  expressing love, gratitude and compassion should be a part of your daily life.  You never know when one day, you could lose someone close to you. When something important to you can be taken away. Instead of living forever in grief, disappointment, or find yourself faithless... try finding that love, gratitude, and compassion that is there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all dark corners light can be found.  It is just how you choose to see it.  You can focus on the darkness, or live in the light.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-12352189192814361?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/12352189192814361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=12352189192814361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/12352189192814361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/12352189192814361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/12/into-light.html' title='Into the Light'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r66/Idealsummerluvv/Mobile%20photos/th_122edca7827e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-552162746833741622</id><published>2009-12-05T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T14:53:10.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Grateful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/balloons" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i457.photobucket.com/albums/qq292/30stm_07/balloons.jpg" border="0" alt="ballons Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. &lt;/blockquote&gt; -Eleanor Roosevelt&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this moment, I am absolutely in love with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much that can be taken for granted.  Food is all around me, it is not difficult for me to simply reach into my refrigerator and grab some carrots, or a delicious cup of pudding.  I do not have to worry about having a roof over my head, or a jacket in the cold weather. Not all people have such luxuries, which does bring a sadness over me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I choose to live my life in gratitude. I understand that these are luxuries to feel lucky and grateful for, and to never take them for granted. I wish more people recognized and felt more grateful for all the things they have.  Even if they are not in a situation that is not desirable, it could be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm creating a challenge for myself. From now to January 1st,  I will affirm everyday on Facebook, Myspace, and Twitter what I am grateful for. I will also ask one person a day, hopefully different people, what they are grateful for that day (no matter how random that question will appear in the conversation). And, of course, I will say these affirmations out loud everyday. My intention is to spread the idea of gratefulness to people, because I truly believe that through living in gratefulness, people can develop a higher sense of optimism for life, and care more about themselves and possible others around them.  I am also curious to see how my attitude toward myself, my physical environment, and how I see other people changes and/or develops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, this will be a challenge for me. Even though I already make such affirmations daily, I usually keep them to myself or share them with my boyfriend (and with you, of course, if I happen to blog about it). :)  Therefor, I will be honest, I am nervous to see how people will receive this. But this fear of how people will receive this is a construct. I am inventing it. It means nothing, and I should not be afraid.  I am being open with people, and usually people receive this well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a more organized format:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenge:&lt;br /&gt;*For 27 days, I will affirm what I am grateful for&lt;br /&gt;*Post affirmations on my social networking sites&lt;br /&gt;*Ask a person a day (different people) what *they* are grateful for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goal:&lt;br /&gt;*Spread idea of gratefulness to others&lt;br /&gt;*Inspire higher sense of optimism&lt;br /&gt;*Individuals to care about their physical and mental well being&lt;br /&gt;*Individuals to see their physical environment in a different light&lt;br /&gt;*And see other people in a brighter light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall: to become more receptive and open to what LIFE has to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:-D I'm excited about this! Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-552162746833741622?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/552162746833741622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=552162746833741622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/552162746833741622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/552162746833741622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-grateful.html' title='I Am Grateful'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2803381039171118384</id><published>2009-11-23T09:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T09:06:58.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home &lt;3</title><content type='html'>I love being home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I love being in college, I really miss my friends... so it's wonderful to see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have a wonderful week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! And I'm running my third half marathon this coming Sunday!!!!! Wish me luck! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2803381039171118384?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2803381039171118384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2803381039171118384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2803381039171118384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2803381039171118384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/11/home-3.html' title='Home &lt;3'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5534031471185022972</id><published>2009-11-05T12:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T09:44:06.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Commitment.</title><content type='html'>My questions of the, well, past two weeks. :)&lt;br /&gt;---------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you attached to being right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; When it comes to certain types of diets and what are the best exercises to do, I want to be right. I know I certainly do not know everything about these subjects. I'm not a personal trainer (yet, I plan to be one day), a dietitian, or an expert on anything to be honest. However, I am knowledgeable about these topics and know a few things from personal experience and some research. However, I can be defensive... just let it go. I don't know everything. :) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can you thank your community for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; WSU is a very friendly and spirited environment.  Most people are kind and willing to help others. We're also a very environmentally friendly and health-conscious school.  My school is great. :) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you afraid of being judged for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; For certain choices I make, specifically for what I eat.  When I first moved here I was known as the super healthy girl, because I was strict about what I was eating (due to my aunts wedding, the fact that I had a possibility of being on the rowing team, and I didn't have many distractions) and I worked out ALL THE TIME.  But now I'm losing my focus a bit, and that title is slowly fading. I want to bring that back. I want to be known as the healthy girl that only looks better and better.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;There seems to be a lot that I'm afraid of right now. Which is due to stress. Damn college. I love it but... the work is getting to me. :)  &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; What are you devoted to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; I am recommitted to myself. I am devoted to my physical and mental well being. I am also devoted to being a good student, friend, sister, daughter, girlfriend, and humanitarian.  &lt;-- In no particular order.  I'm devoted to love. Wherever I can give it. :) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What brings you bliss?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; My family, friends, boyfriend, truly learning/understanding something, running, a kick ass workout of any kind, accomplishing a goal/task, de-cluttering my physical environment and mind, and that I have the ability to enjoy life... No matter how dark my mind can be, I can always see the light. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you not being in your word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;My word as of late is: devoted. That's a good word. I want to be more devoted to finishing my weight loss. I'm refocusing. I will do it, I am doing it. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A life of gratitude is a life of awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Call someone tonight and thank them for loving you, for being in your life. Express your gratitude to them. Giving and receiving are one.~&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who could you be more generous with? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; I could be more generous with this girl that lives in my hall. I should open a door for her and tell her that I'm here if she needs to talk. She cuts herself, and she isn't the kind of person to really talk about personal stuff... so it's difficult to really connect with her.  But I should let her know that I see what she's doing, and I care about her, and that she can talk to me about it whenever she's ready. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have you been wanting to say but are not saying? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;That I'm absolutely terrified that I'm going to start gaining weight, and no matter what I do I wont be able to stop myself. It's easy to lose track of what I'm consuming, which is why I do my best to write in a food diary (you write down everything you eat, and I also keep track of calories).  But of course, on weekends I fail at it, then eat dumb shit. This was Halloween weekend, and I shouldn't be so damn hard on myself. Let go. Live healthy. Treat your body as a temple. It's okay. I'm just maintaining my weight right now, I'm not gaining anything drastic. CHILL. ha, ha. :) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5534031471185022972?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5534031471185022972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5534031471185022972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5534031471185022972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5534031471185022972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/11/commitment.html' title='Commitment.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8705252540009796370</id><published>2009-10-31T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T09:23:45.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>liveSTRONG</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/livestrong" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t242/wowohiostate10/livestrong.jpg" border="0" alt="livestrong Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since mid November of last year, I wore one of these bracelets &lt;i&gt;everyday for ten months.&lt;/i&gt;  I took it off only about three times because of a few formal event where it would of been inappropriate for me to wear it.  Well, sometime at the end of September its life came to an end, and it broke.  I taped it to my door, but it was still a very sad day for me to see it break. For awhile I felt naked without it, and just a piece of me was missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very difficult for me to explain why this $1 piece of rubber meant so much to me... the best I can do is tell you that it was my tiny reminder of what my goals are, what I'm striving to achieve, and to make the best decisions for my health and overall well-being. It was there through all my struggles and accomplishments.  I just.... I just needed another one. I live in a VERY small town now, so I couldn't find one anywhere. :(  I decided to accept it until I made a day trip to Spokane and was able to go into a Sports Authority or some other place that I know would have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yesterday I was hanging out by a river to watch my girls race (for the rowing team) and I was sitting on a bunch of rocks with them while they waited... I stood up to do something and my cell phone fell out of my pocket... under all the hundreds and hundreds of pounds of rocks and probably landed in water anyway. Ten of us tried to dig it out for about 45 minutes when I told them thank you, but we're not going to get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved that neon-purple phone, despite it being a piece of shit. Sasha Fierce may rest in peace. (I name all my inanimate objects by the way. My car is Kyle, my lap top is Murrow, and my camera is Jay Davis. Don't ask, I just do things.) haha :-p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my boyfriend went with my to Lewiston to get a new phone with my plan (T-Mobile)... oh, and Lewiston is a good hour away from Pullman.... and yes, that IS the closest T-Mobile store... I live in the country now, ha ha. I buy a good cheap phone, because I get a full upgrade anytime next month... So when I go home I'm going to buy a bitchen NEW phone. Ooooh I'm so excited for that, it's going to be CUTE. :-D  But in the meantime I love my new phone, which my BF cleverly named 'Rufio', which is one of The Lost Boys in Peter Pan. He has red and black hair and has an attitude- my phone is red and black and totally has some sass.. so... Rufio fit. :-p  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice story and all, but what does this have to do with liveSTRONG?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after purchasing the phone (and the process took a long time, so I was a bit flustered and still upset from losing my phone... because I hate needing to stalk all my friends down and get numbers back.)  And I see Matt is hiding something, he tells me I'll find out once we get back in my car.  For no reason I'm a bit irritated, but we get in my car and I turn to him. He tells me to hold out my hand... and he drops a new liveSTRONG bracelet into my hand. Automatically, tears start running down my face.  He just dropped my symbol of hope into my hand, and I didn't even see him buying it! I guess they had a bunch in the store and I didn't even notice!  Ha, ha- it was the first time he saw me cry so he was a bit surprised. But I did my best to explain how much that meant to me- and the fact that he cared enough to remember and buy if for me makes it even more special. Even though I know he loves me, and he did not have to do something like this to make me believe him, but it definitely confirmed it for me, and it just adds to the incredibly long and building list of why I love him. Seriously, we're meant to be together. I can see myself with him for a long time. It's just SO REAL. :) Wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happily I now have another liveSTRONG bracelet, and I feel powerful again.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! HAVE A FUN DAY AND DO NOT EAT TOO MUCH CANDY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/halloween" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i214.photobucket.com/albums/cc200/Zom-bee/cupcakes/dracula_cupcake_monster-722393.jpg" border="0" alt="cupcake Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I wish I made this. Ha, ha!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8705252540009796370?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8705252540009796370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8705252540009796370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8705252540009796370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8705252540009796370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/livestrong.html' title='liveSTRONG'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i214.photobucket.com/albums/cc200/Zom-bee/cupcakes/th_dracula_cupcake_monster-722393.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4301464650264025859</id><published>2009-10-24T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T16:06:40.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pointless Post.</title><content type='html'>I love my new background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is freaking simple and super cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love love love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4301464650264025859?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4301464650264025859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4301464650264025859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4301464650264025859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4301464650264025859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/pointless-post.html' title='Pointless Post.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2625691259570713576</id><published>2009-10-23T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T13:12:39.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought Question.</title><content type='html'>So, I know you know that I'm obsessed with the musician Jason Mraz. He is not only one of my favorite artists, but he's kind of my spiritual guide (as strange as that sounds, but he is incredibly spiritual, open minded, generous and just.... awesome.) And he has these insightful questions of the day... so once or twice a week I'm going to answer what he asks. They're interesting things to think about. So. Yeah. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; Who could you be more generous with?  What are you receiving today? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the darker weather we've had in Eastern Washington (rain, dark clouds, little sun...) and the fact that it's that time of month when girls do not like being girls (sorry, Spenc)... I've been a bit more critical and negative lately. Which is awful, because that is NOT a part of my venture to *always* BE LOVE.  Well, I am only human, right? :-/  But there is a girl that lives on my hall that I've been kinda bitching about behind her back... because she has a very strong personality and it's difficult to connect with her sometimes. In a way she makes me feel stupid about what I believe, my opinion on certain topics, and self-conscious about the music I listen to, the way I dress... etc... It's not like she does it on purpose, there are many wonderful things about her. She is a intelligent person, and she means well... but sometimes her delivery on some things is slightly demeaning without her really knowing it is. She just know what she believes in and she's very firm about it.  If anything, my response to what she is saying is because even though I am becoming a more confident and strong individual, it is only human of my to still have some things I don't like about myself, and feelings of shame/doubt come up. It happens to everyone. It is how a person REACTS to something that matters, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be more generous in accepting her in a more positive light. To free and let go of what bothers me and just understand what she's about.  Be accepting. Be more generous toward her own Self/Person.  Karma will only bite me in the ass if I continue to semi-bash her. She doesn't deserve that, she never meant to offend me. And if it REALLY bothers me, I can always approach her in a mature, adult manner- which she would appreciate and I would feel better about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will receive only good things from looking at people in a good light. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accept and let go. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 Be Love. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2625691259570713576?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2625691259570713576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2625691259570713576' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2625691259570713576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2625691259570713576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/thought-question.html' title='Thought Question.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8397626950456285630</id><published>2009-10-20T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T07:57:54.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/bubbles" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i0006.photobucket.com/albums/0006/findstuff22/Best%20Images/Just%20For%20Fun/bubbles1.jpg" border="0" alt="bubbles Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this moment I am grateful for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom and dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my brother Matt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;boyfriend Matt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mariya, kayla, nadean, sari, alexandra, and beth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all the parts of my body, the eyes to see, ears that hear, nose that smells and mouth that speaks and smiles, soul that rejoices &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coffee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cream/sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oatmeal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sunrises, fog and dew that whisper along the wheat fields&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;college&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my health&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bubbles, flowers, and balloons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love, love, and more love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8397626950456285630?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8397626950456285630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8397626950456285630' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8397626950456285630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8397626950456285630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5841222441881344097</id><published>2009-10-16T08:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T08:09:56.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hermit: to seek truth.</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;What disempowering story are you telling about yourself? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been falling in the awful trap of "laziness"  by telling myself I can do it tomorrow, when I know I wont have time tomorrow.  I have not being going to the gym or writing in my Food Diary because I want my last 15 pounds to melt off my body. I'm still a tad bummed out that I didn't make the Varsity Rowing team, because they give you a personal trainer and I would of barely had to put any effort into shedding the last few pounds and toning my body.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I started this on my own, I can finish it on my own. What's 40 pounds to 15? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am strong, powerful, engaged. I will finish this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Who is the easiest person to love in your life?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who is authentic and dedicated to their true Self.  It's easy to be grateful and feel blessed for anything and anyone in your life, and to express that gratitude... even though sometimes life sucks, be grateful for what you have right now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't pick an individual for this question. My family/friends are the easiest people to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sweet, youthful, and abundant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What are you pretending? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a hard question for me to answer right now, because over the past few months I've been becoming truer to my authentic Self.  I guess, on occasion, since I am a college student- it's easy to switch personalities based on who I'm around.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use to pretend every minute of everyday. Before November, 2008- I would grab the mask of false joy everyday. As long as I kept making those around me smile and laugh, they never saw the true sadness I was feeling.  Only a select few saw how truly miserable I was.  (Those are the people that know me only too well.) :)  Then I became invested in a journey toward self-discovery, awareness, and was determined to fill my body with not only love (I had plenty of that), but a love for myself. That healing process takes a long time, but you can do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am honoring, thankful, and accepting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What do you love about the rain?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the way it taps my window. The way the cold drops land on my face, and bring me a whole new awakening. Every drop feels like I am becoming more close to nature, like they're trying to take me to a higher self, bestowing a touch more wisdom on me.  I love the way rain smells, how it seems to heighten the senses, everything has a smell all of a sudden.  Rain is renewing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am refreshing, fulfilled, and renewed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where have you not been speaking up?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the past few days, I have been avoiding having a talk with my Self.  I have been slacking on my path to ultimate health.  Of all times, this is the last and most crucial phase. If I gained weight, the amount of disappointment I would feel would be... intolerable. It is time for me to recommit to myself, because I deserve the life I always dreamed about. I deserve the body I've always wanted. I deserve to look in the mirror and cry, because I know all the hard work it took me to get to that point. I deserve to be outrageously proud of myself. I deserve to live my life the way I want to life it. I deserve it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am deserving, beautiful, and dazzling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What can you give thanks for today?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for my daily affirmations (the I am...), for my supportive parents and brother, my friends/bf, for my eyes, lips, hands, legs, fingernails, eyelashes, body, mind, spirit, smile, laugh, music, photos, school, life, and you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am mindful, aware, and open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are good questions to sit down and ask yourself. Try to take a moment to be genuine with yourself. It's interesting to see what comes up. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5841222441881344097?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5841222441881344097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5841222441881344097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5841222441881344097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5841222441881344097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/hermit-to-seek-truth.html' title='The Hermit: to seek truth.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8487930231140577387</id><published>2009-10-15T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T15:15:27.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cutest E-mail Forward I've Ever Received.</title><content type='html'>An e-mail forward I received from my Mom :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Carrots, Eggs &amp; Coffee &lt;br /&gt;A carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee...You will never look&lt;br /&gt;at a cup of coffee the same way again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young woman went to her mother and told her about her&lt;br /&gt;life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know&lt;br /&gt;how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was&lt;br /&gt;tired of fighting and struggling... It seemed as one problem&lt;br /&gt;was solved, a new one arose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots&lt;br /&gt;with water and placed each on a high fire.  Soon the&lt;br /&gt;pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the&lt;br /&gt;second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground&lt;br /&gt;coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She&lt;br /&gt;fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled&lt;br /&gt;the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the&lt;br /&gt;coffee out and placed it in a bowl.... Turning to her&lt;br /&gt;daughter, she asked, ' Tell me what you see.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Carrots, eggs, and coffee,' she replied..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the&lt;br /&gt;carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. &lt;br /&gt;The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break&lt;br /&gt;it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard&lt;br /&gt;boiled egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee..&lt;br /&gt;The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The&lt;br /&gt;daughter then asked,  'What does it mean, mother?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced&lt;br /&gt;the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently.&lt;br /&gt;The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However,&lt;br /&gt;after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and&lt;br /&gt;became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell&lt;br /&gt;had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through&lt;br /&gt;the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground&lt;br /&gt;coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the&lt;br /&gt;boiling water, they had changed the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Which are you?' she asked her daughter. 'When&lt;br /&gt;adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a&lt;br /&gt;carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems&lt;br /&gt;strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become&lt;br /&gt;soft and lose my strength?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but&lt;br /&gt;changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after &lt;br /&gt;a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, &lt;br /&gt;have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, &lt;br /&gt;but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and&lt;br /&gt;hardened heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the&lt;br /&gt;hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When&lt;br /&gt;the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If&lt;br /&gt;you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you&lt;br /&gt;get better and change the situation around you. When the&lt;br /&gt;hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you&lt;br /&gt;elevate yourself to another level? &lt;br /&gt;How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a&lt;br /&gt;coffee bean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough&lt;br /&gt;trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human&lt;br /&gt;and enough hope to make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best&lt;br /&gt;of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes &lt;br /&gt;along their way.   The brightest future will always be based on a &lt;br /&gt;forgotten past; you can't go forward in life until you let go of&lt;br /&gt;your past failures and heartaches."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8487930231140577387?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8487930231140577387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8487930231140577387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8487930231140577387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8487930231140577387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/cutest-e-mail-forward-ive-ever-received.html' title='The Cutest E-mail Forward I&apos;ve Ever Received.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5600220017718235187</id><published>2009-10-15T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T07:58:41.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Electric Twist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/holding%20hands" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i568.photobucket.com/albums/ss130/666murf666/random%20stuff/wall-e_holding_hands-1.jpg" border="0" alt="wall-e holding hands Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom always told me that a relationship should be easy.  You meet each other, and at some point it just becomes something more...  I really didn't believe that would ever happen. My parents fell in love at first sight (pretty much). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as always, my mom was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try not to have too many sappy blogs about my new relationship. But at the moment I'm just really surprised by how... easy it really was and is.  It feels right, like we were suppose to be together.  He told me there is something different about me than all the other girls he has met and dated, and I feel the same way about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, I want to be realistic and stay in the present, because at the beginning of a relationship you really should NOT think about the future (it's a scary thing!), but.... I have a good feeling about this guy... I have a feeling this will last. (Ha, ha- at least last longer than the 3 month mark, which seems to be my bad number.) Yeah, Matt will definitely last longer. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if, for some retarded reason, it doesn't... well, then that will fucking blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not going to think about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live in the present. Enjoy the now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5600220017718235187?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5600220017718235187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5600220017718235187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5600220017718235187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5600220017718235187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/electric-twist.html' title='Electric Twist'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i568.photobucket.com/albums/ss130/666murf666/random%20stuff/th_wall-e_holding_hands-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4569363280802366673</id><published>2009-10-10T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T11:34:40.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I gotta mark this day.</title><content type='html'>So, I posted a blog a few days ago called "Quaint, Indeed" about this guy I really like... well, there's an update on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is now my boyfriend.  Lovely. :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have confidence that this is going to be really easy. Which is great.  He's so genuine and authentic... different from ANY guy I've dated.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel really great about this. He's such a great guy, really listens to me and he's definitely going to treat me well. Heck, he treated me wonderfully when we were just friends!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4569363280802366673?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4569363280802366673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4569363280802366673' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4569363280802366673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4569363280802366673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-gotta-mark-this-day.html' title='I gotta mark this day.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5062366084892028758</id><published>2009-10-07T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T21:29:15.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too bad, what can I do now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi Stacy,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being a part of the Rowing Class.  You brought positivity and an element of team work to the group that made those around you better.  I was impressed with your athleticism during conditioning, and your brought that work ethic into the tank/boat with you as well.  However, your onland abilities did not translate into boatspeed.  I believe you are  limited by your height and flexibility and have to make a tough call to prevent frustration for you further down the road. &lt;br /&gt;I appreciate your positive energy, attitude, and the time you put into the class but will not be inviting  you to be a part of the Team.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you and wishing you the best in all you pursue at WSU and beyond!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, as you can see I didn't make the team.  Found out two hours ago. I'm pretty upset. I really loved it. Being on the water, being a part of a team... as you read, I did pretty good. Height is something I can't control. So, it just wasn't meant to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But life is too short to waste time with frustration and anger. There are so many more opportunities out there for me, this is the Universe's way of telling me that there are other things I need to focus on right now.  I'm a Junior in college, this is the time for my career, to focus on my future and what I can do for it now. I need to do my resume building things.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have accomplished so many things (physically),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost 40 pounds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have ran TWO half marathons, and am running another one at the end of November (haven't signed up yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to do it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be running a FULL marathon this June (26.3 miles. damn.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm debating on getting a personal training certificate. After I lose about 15 more pounds and tone up, I'll be comfortable enough to just do it. Inspire others to  become healthy. Sounds like something I would be good at. :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Enough said.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5062366084892028758?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5062366084892028758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5062366084892028758' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5062366084892028758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5062366084892028758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/too-bad-what-can-i-do-now.html' title='Too bad, what can I do now?'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4320709117919189560</id><published>2009-10-06T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T23:37:52.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quaint indeed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/lily%20flower" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a239/unlucky_sprinx/flower.jpg" border="0" alt="Lily Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is interesting the path road can take you on, is it not?  Sometimes the best way to find something you are looking for is to not look for it at all... and instead let it come into your life when you are ready for it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving to a place where I knew nobody, of course I would meet many people. I'm a very open, bubbly person and it has almost never been hard for me to make a friend anywhere I find myself.  The people I have met here so far are absolutely fantastic. How did I end up being so lucky? I have fabulous people in my hall, and I have been becoming close to the guys and girls that live here. I happen to have a class with my friend Matt, and we have been hanging out (or at least talking) everyday for the past, oh, three weeks?  He was really shy at first, so it was hard for me to approach him. Then in our class we ended up in the same project group, and I knew there was more to him. That's when we started talking and consistently hanging out.  Since I have been meeting many guys, I didn't treat or see him any differently. I just wanted him to loosin' up a bit, break through the shyness and feel comfortable with me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It worked, and he is one of the funniest people I have talked to.  We have a lot of thoughtful and great conversations, we click spiritually, health matters to both of us... I was like, "Awesome. I have a guy friend that clicks with me!"  That's seriously what I felt/thought. Then came last Friday. We were just hanging out in his room like usual, I was burning CD's from him and while I was looking around his room I saw that he had some Spiced Rum. I said, "Hey, there is another Up-All-Night (mini-carnival at my school) tonight. I think it would be fun if we had a couple drinks and went." He said sure, we had enough drinks to feel silly, and left. There we played air hockey (I won) and pool (he won), met some other cool dudes and went to a Hookah bar down the street (Matt paid for me).  It was about 12:30 am when we decided to leave the Hookah bar and go back to his room to watch a movie. As we're walking back, it hits me. We've totally been flirting the whole night. I was so busy having casual fun with him that I didn't give it notice. I simply enjoy being in his presence. Hmm.  We get to his room and about halfway through the movie I realize that we moved closer together and, again, I didn't realize it. It was natural.  He put his arm around me. I didn't feel nervous at all (the alcohol is totally out of our system, just fyi), it just felt... right.  That is the moment I realize, "Holy shit, I totally like (as in like like) this guy... and I didn't even realize it." The movie ends. We kiss... he didn't press me for sex. Which is very weird, because the past four guys I've dated jumped at it and sort of pressured me to do it (NO, I didn't have sex with all of them, just saying). Matt didn't push me at all. He wanted me to feel comfortable. And that was that. We went running the next day... no awkwardness. That was almost a week ago. Last night we briefly talked about it. We acknowledged that we like each other, I told him I tend to rush into things and I didn't want to screw this up and since we both had school it might be a bit much... especially since we are still learning about each other it would be good to cool it. He understood and agreed. So, casually and without title. I'm sorta kinda dating someone. (kinda).  Very chill. Which is nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I have blogged about many guys I've 'dated', and you know when I like someone ASAP. I get super emotional, clingy, and just overly-excited about the whole thing. I'm usually infatuated right off the bat, and I have become so wrapped up and consumed in the whole thing that I don't see the full picture. At all. I only saw what I wanted to, and pretty much invented good qualities just to make the previous guys look like what I "look for."  With this guy, I didn't even realize it and I talked to him &lt;i&gt;every day&lt;/i&gt;! How... what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just so easy for me to be with him. He's very calm, and he sees me the way I would hope people see me. We're share very similar views on spirituality and he really enjoys have philosophical conversations with me. He seems to really enjoy listening to me rant about whatever I want to. Doesn't matter. He listens, and he REALLY listens. Matt remembers so many things that I say.  I freaking mentioned a movie I really wanted to see, you know what he did- downloaded it for me. I never asked, I didn't even express that I was going to rent it.  I also told him my favorite comfort drink was cocoa. A few days later I was stressing about an essay and guess what? He brought me hot cocoa. I didn't even say I wanted it. No mention. Just did it. He is so genuine and authentic. He is just naturally nice. I appreciate it. I'm so grateful for that. I like him, I really do. The only weird thing is that my brothers name is Matt. But... that isn't a big deal to me. Whatever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woah. This post was way longer than I thought it would be. Crazy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I find out if I'm on the Rowing team tomorrow! Wish me luck! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~With love~*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4320709117919189560?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4320709117919189560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4320709117919189560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4320709117919189560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4320709117919189560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/quaint-indeed.html' title='Quaint indeed.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5080034016492863714</id><published>2009-10-03T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T22:10:16.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wawawai</title><content type='html'>Wawawai. Pronounced: WAH-WAH-WAY. Say it fast, it's really fun. Even better: it's just the name of a very long road in Pullman, WA. Freaking love it, it became my new favorite word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's saturday night, and I'm not doing anything. I had fun last night, and I feel like being a hermit tonight. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I was going to say something else. *ponders*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of this morning, I have officially lost (since last November) 40 pounds!! *hears uncontrollable cheering*  I feel really damn happy about that. I now only have 15 more pounds to lose until I'm at my goal weight!! OH MY GOSH. So fabulous. &lt;br /&gt;I'm very happy :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. That is all, I hope you are well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5080034016492863714?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5080034016492863714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5080034016492863714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5080034016492863714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5080034016492863714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/10/wawawai.html' title='wawawai'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7245489388297106986</id><published>2009-09-29T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T08:21:51.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Morning Cup</title><content type='html'>Every morning, I do my best to wake up 30 minutes before I really need to get up.  It gives me time to eat my breakfast, drink my water and coffee, and reflect.  I have quotes of inspiration posted on various parts of my room, and I read most (or all) of these affirmations out loud.  I want the Universe to hear that this is who I am today, because it knows who I have been, and it will help me transform into who I will become.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I feel bright, committed, passionate and cheerful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday, live your life to the fullest. Make the best of every situation, or do what you can with it. Life is too short to live in sadness and not feel love.  Choose kindness over being right. Be love, in every way. Unconditionally.  If you feel like there is no love, let me just say... If anything, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I love you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BE &lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/universe" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i435.photobucket.com/albums/qq76/ilovejayz4ever/love8798794351988.gif" border="0" alt="Universe Love Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7245489388297106986?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7245489388297106986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7245489388297106986' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7245489388297106986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7245489388297106986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-morning-cup.html' title='My Morning Cup'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-766910699095380702</id><published>2009-09-27T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T11:26:02.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9/26/09, My 2nd Half Marathon.</title><content type='html'>-Running shoes? &lt;br /&gt;-'FOCUS' sweat resistant head band (and lucky charm)? &lt;br /&gt;-SpiBelt? (this is a spibelt: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/Sr-bCCk8tGI/AAAAAAAAAH4/BUGPsX0jEh4/s1600-h/spibelt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 148px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/Sr-bCCk8tGI/AAAAAAAAAH4/BUGPsX0jEh4/s320/spibelt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386194138712290402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;--holds a ton of things and *barely* moves. Pretty cool.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-ipod w/ Nike+ and armband?&lt;br /&gt;-string cheese?&lt;br /&gt;-gatorade?&lt;br /&gt;-water bottle?&lt;br /&gt;-DETERMINATION?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL CHECKS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 6am and I hop out of bed. The window is open and my lungs are full of clean, crisp morning air.  I look at my desk and see the list of things I need to remember for the event I'm up so early for.  An ultimate test of mental ability. How strong am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eat scrambled eggs mixed with turkey bacon in a white flour tortilla and a teaspoon of peanut butter. No coffee. I chug a 18oz bottle of water and refill it for later. I start drinking my 32oz gatorade (slowly).  I stand in front of the mirror and look into my eyes.  I say outloud: "Stacy, you can do this. You've done it before, you have already proved yourself. You have this sweetie, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you have this&lt;/span&gt;."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my cell phone and check my facebook (habit) many people have texted/messaged me wishing me luck, my heart swells. All these people cared enough to let me know I have their support. I have no words for how much that means to me. I'm tearing up as I type this and It's a day later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to parking, picking up my registration packet, and since it pumps me up to be there- I get to the starting line an hour and a half early. I listen to people talking amongst each other, they're excited, nervous, but one thing I noticed the most among those racing: not one of them said the words "I can't."  There were a lot of husbands, wives, friends, children and people simply a part of the community that were observers, and I heard most of them (the observers) say something like: "I'm so proud of _____, I could &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; do something like this."  "I wish I could do this, but I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;can't &lt;/span&gt;run."  I can't I can't I can't.  Nothing spiked my energy more.  It made me angry. At first I didn't quite understand why I was getting so emotional about it, a tear even fell down my cheek. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it clicked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless a person has an injury or disability that TRULY makes a person UNABLE to run, then guess what? YOU *CAN* RUN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody can run. Running as an act is fairly simple: you put one foot in front of the other at a faster pace than walking. Sure, there is technique to running, and it's important to know how to run, but anyone can learn that. It's not difficult. There is no magic touch to it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what makes running so challenging? Why do so many people say "I can't"?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running is all mental. It's just you and the road. There is no one in the world that can motivate you to keep going, even if you have a running partner. Sure, they can bug you to keep going- but ultimately it's you that makes that decision. You make all the choices. How good are you at convincing yourself to keep going? How important is it to you? How much do you BELIEVE IN YOURSELF? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, when I hit mile 4 and saw the first hill I began to think: "What am I doing? I have 9.1 miles to go, the sun is blaring down on my face, it's hot, my legs hurt, I can't do this- I can't. You're not an athlete, you don't belong here." And I slowed down to a walk. I caught my breath, and about 5 seconds later I realized: "I gave up, oh my God, I gave up. I gave up on myself, on my goals. I lost all my faith, belief and forgot my strength. What have I done?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running is my way of proving myself to myself. It's a reminder that if I can do this, I can do anything.  In my world, the words "I can't" should NEVER be in my (or anyone's) vocabulary. There is only: "I CAN. I WILL. I DO."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that moment of doubt, I made myself sick. For a person to lose faith on themselves and give up... is one of the worst things you can do.  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;If YOU don't believe in YOURSELF, who will? In this life, you always have YOU. It's absolutely critical to love yourself, to believe in yourself. &lt;/span&gt; How can I stress this enough?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running is my therapy. A time for me to be vulnerable, to see everything I'm insecure about, to reflect and think, and to embrace everything. To turn something negative into a strength. Because I know there is a reason for me to be here on this earth. Do I know the exact reason? No. But I get closer every second.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be the change you wish to see in the world."- Ghandi.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a difference in the world, it's important to start with yourself.  Do what you need to do to love yourself. You are here for a reason.  YOU have strength, passion, determination. It's all there. Start with finding and seeing it. Love yourself, love others, just BE LOVE.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know life gets extremely difficult. I know what it's like to fall in the deep end and feel like you can't swim back.  I've been there, everyone has been there.   Just remember: you ARE worth a great life, you deserve happiness and love. Find that in yourself and the world will look much more colorful. You DO have the strength to swim out of the deep end...&lt;br /&gt; I know through this entire blog I've been talking about finding the strength in yourself, but it's also important to remember this: you're NOT alone.  Yes, it is YOUR decision of how to view the world, what your attitude is going to be... but you still have people around you that love you, that are there to help. Allow them to be there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in conclusion. No matter what our relationship is, I could be your best friend, your daughter, sister, friend, acquaintance, maybe we just went to school together, just started getting to know each other, co-worker, WHATEVER I am to you... I want you to know that if anything, I believe in you. I know you have everything you need to be successful, you have the heart, the power... if anything, I love you.  You can do anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-766910699095380702?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/766910699095380702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=766910699095380702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/766910699095380702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/766910699095380702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/09/92609-my-2nd-half-marathon.html' title='9/26/09, My 2nd Half Marathon.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/Sr-bCCk8tGI/AAAAAAAAAH4/BUGPsX0jEh4/s72-c/spibelt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5474852617781129952</id><published>2009-09-14T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T11:15:46.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>as of late...</title><content type='html'>College. What a turning point in my life. New town, new people, new atmosphere. Everything is different. The only piece of home I have is the effort I have put into my dorm room. I have to say, it does look fantastic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Work load wise- it’s not too bad. It is a lot of reading and making sure I continuously review what I’ve already read so I can retain it. Some writing. A project or two. I can handle it, it’s totally doable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Rowing has been fun! There quite a few girls that are doing a really good job… so when October 10th comes around and it’s time for them to choose whose on the team or not… it’s going to be hard.  Lots of potential. I just really hope that I’m one of the girls chosen. Oh, to be part of a team would be so much fun (even if most of them are freshman, they’re still nice girls) ☺&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   People. Oh, the people. I really like most of the people in my hall. Even though I’ve met everyone and they’re all nice, only a few of us actually socialize with each other.  Their are four girls and three guys I consistently see and hang out with. Brier, Tracey, Brittney, Katolina, Scott, Kyle and Eli.  &lt;br /&gt;Those are the names that will come up a lot, so I figured I’d throw them out there.  I like them mucho.  Funny, smart, and chill set of people. ☺ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  However, despite how busy I am (and I’m not lying when I say I’m having a good time. I love WSU. This is where I’m suppose to be and I’m incredibly grateful that I have the opportunity to go here)- when I have a moment to myself I can’t help but feel a bit… empty? Lonely? Sad? Sure, it’s normal to feel this way when a person makes such a transition. This one of those turning points, a leap in life. I just this school wasn’t a 6 hour drive away from home… it would be nice if my friends had time to come here and visit. I’m not offended that they wont (they say they will, but I know they wont). It doesn’t mean they don’t miss me/love me/care… But who wants to freaking drive for 5-6 hours? Or spend $100 for a bus or plane ticket (and that’s only one way)? I’ll admit, I wouldn’t.  &lt;br /&gt;I also haven’t had much meditation time. It’s hard for me to close my mind and focus on myself without thoughts of “Is that paper due tomorrow or Wednesday?” “I read that section, right?” “Should I study with so-and-so?” popping into my head.  Ahh, I need MY TIME.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh * I’m also disappointed in myself. The good news is that I got down to the lightest weight I’ve been in about two years. YAY! Then I got mindless and had some pizza, beer and ate other crap I should of avoided. So I gained 3 pounds. It’s hard to be social and not eat like shit because that’s what is cheap. Poor college student = eat cheap.  So, healthy and cheap? Doable, but difficult.  Oh, and I know what you’re thinking because everyone reacts this way when I say it, “Only 3 pounds? How is that a big deal?” Yeah, for me that’s one pant size. Last week I bought a new pair and it doesn’t fit today because of those 3 ponds. On my body, I can see and feel every pound gained or lost. Which can suck or be awesome. I would rather have AWESOME.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now I’m refocused. I am successful. I am strong. I am where I want to be. I am freaking fabulous. ☺ ☺ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Appreciate your friends. Continue to learn. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is.”&lt;br /&gt;- Mary Anne Radmache&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5474852617781129952?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5474852617781129952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5474852617781129952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5474852617781129952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5474852617781129952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/09/as-of-late.html' title='as of late...'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-6715329538983623441</id><published>2009-08-25T20:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T20:37:41.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FABULOUS</title><content type='html'>My classes are going to be a lot of work, but I'm incredibly excited. All my teachers are cool, and the subjects are interesting so it'll be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had the Row meeting tonight, and that went well.  I'm going to be insanely pressed for time, but I know I'll love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay. Love. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-6715329538983623441?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/6715329538983623441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=6715329538983623441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6715329538983623441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6715329538983623441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/08/fabulous.html' title='FABULOUS'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-858641763302880694</id><published>2009-08-20T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T16:35:49.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I just realized</title><content type='html'>that two years ago this month I started my blog. August 7, 2007 was my first one. :) Awww, sentimental moment (kinda). How things change. What different types of courage I have faced, and what I am facing now. Everyday is filled with something new, something that wakes me up to life. Enjoy every second of life, it is precious and delicate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/lily" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v228/Sysonby/Gardens/Descanso/dg-lily.jpg" border="0" alt="Lily Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-858641763302880694?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/858641763302880694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=858641763302880694' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/858641763302880694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/858641763302880694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-just-realized.html' title='I just realized'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7905072545032522232</id><published>2009-08-18T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T09:58:35.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now that I've had my sleep and coffee :)</title><content type='html'>I'm sure I wont get over how exceptionally beautiful Pullman is. Pictures really don't do it justice, but I'm going to take some pictures and post a few. (at some point).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I just love the feeling of being here. I have my own room, and a new wave of independence is flooding me. I'm meant to be on my own. Thus far the transition is very easy. I thought I would cry because I would feel bored and lonely. Well, I forget how good I am at keeping myself busy/entertained.  It's also very easy for me to make friends, I'm just so darn open and receptive. AHHH I'M SO HAPPY.  I'll be taking classes I care about, meeting new people, and and and and so many things.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meeting for the rowing team is August 25th @ 6:30pm... I wish it was right now, I really want to get started. Last friday was the last day of my rowing lessons (it was four weeks long, three days a week), and I completely fell in love with the sport. It's a huge challenge, but I'm willing to take it. BRING IT ON!  :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's time for me to go to the gym. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7905072545032522232?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7905072545032522232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7905072545032522232' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7905072545032522232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7905072545032522232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/08/now-that-ive-had-my-sleep-and-coffee.html' title='Now that I&apos;ve had my sleep and coffee :)'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-164849142251554790</id><published>2009-08-17T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T22:46:27.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And... so far, WSU is awesome.</title><content type='html'>I moved into my dorm sunday (so yesterday). So far I absolutely love it here.  WSU is surrounded by rolling fields of wheat, many horses/cows/llamas, and corn.  Beautiful. Everyone is so friendly and inviting... the people that live in my hall are adorable and funny... *sigh* I'm kinda tired, so I'm not very descriptive. Ha ha. It's been a big two days SO YEAH.  &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-164849142251554790?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/164849142251554790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=164849142251554790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/164849142251554790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/164849142251554790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-so-far-wsu-is-awesome.html' title='And... so far, WSU is awesome.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-9131521579052446345</id><published>2009-07-26T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T22:09:52.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Row, Row, Row Your Boat...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/Sm0weI9OmyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/bMzbRObogrg/s1600-h/rowing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 169px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/Sm0weI9OmyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/bMzbRObogrg/s320/rowing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362996025626630946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime last month I received a mass e-mail from the WSU Woman's Varsity Rowing Team, and they were advertising that no prior experience was necessary to join the team. All I had to do was fill out the questionnaire, and I'm suppose to attend a meeting August 25th or 26th and I guess they'll go from there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've haven't been part of a sports TEAM since I was, oh, 12 years old? Ha, and back then I was a very overweight, slow kid that hated doing anything but eating.  Obviously I have changed tremendously, but I didn't play any high school sports. I stuck to the solo adventure activities- such as boxing and running.  I have never even considered rowing (or given it a second thought).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, heck, WHY NOT? I love challenging myself, why not give it a try? If they say prior experience isn't necessary then damn I have a shot, don't I?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few things I'm worried will set me back: &lt;br /&gt;1) even though I've lost a lot of weight, I'm (technically) still overweight. The tricky part, however, is that I'm VERY active. I still have fat on my body, but it's firm fat. I know that sounds weird, but there is a big difference between someone that's my weight/height and does NOT workout compared to me.  They're floppy, I'm firm. Big difference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) My height. This is actually the least of my concerns, because I've talked to a few rowing coaches and they said that there are plenty of women my height that compete in the sport. (Typically, rowers are either short, or really tall. I'm average height.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) My left arm.  It's hard to explain via writing, so I might even make a special video blog just to explain this properly. But I was born with my the radial bone in my left arm dislocated, which means I can't turn it palm face up. Limited range of motion. It's called "radial-sublaxation". BLAH. Video blog in order for sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;-- I don't need to worry about this WHILE I'm rowing, though. Only when carrying the shell (aka: boat). So I'm also not THAT worried about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) My competition. How many girls are allowed on the team? What are they looking for? Would they really pick me compared to a girl that's been playing since high school? Also, I have NO idea what to expect at this meeting. What are they going to talk about? Are they throwing us in a ergometer (a machine used to build and measure the endurance and level of fitness of the athlete) and go from there? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few things I'm doing to prepare for this:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I have been doing more fast paced, circuit workouts. For the past few months I've been doing long distance training (since I was training for my half marathon). This sport is a HUGE endurance sport, but they also do cross training and very intense workouts. So I'm jumping back to my strength training. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I also signed up for a 4 week rowing class that is 3 days a week (an hour and a half each lesson).  So far, I absolutely love it. I feel more confident on my chances of making the team if I already know a bit about the sport, and I wont need too much introduction. I'll have an idea of what to expect.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really excited about this. I am determined to do the absolute best I can. If I don't make the team, that's fine, I'll understand and wont take it to heart. I'll be happy that I walked in knowing that I gave it my 200% best effort. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-9131521579052446345?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/9131521579052446345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=9131521579052446345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/9131521579052446345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/9131521579052446345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/07/row-row-row-your-boat.html' title='Row, Row, Row Your Boat...'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/Sm0weI9OmyI/AAAAAAAAAHw/bMzbRObogrg/s72-c/rowing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3949764793195081863</id><published>2009-06-28T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T18:40:39.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready, set, GO! ...and accomplished.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/rock%20n%20roll%20marathon" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j40/amynicole213/RockNRollMarathonMedals.jpg" border="0" alt="Rock N Roll Marathon Medals Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I ran the Seattle Rock-N-Roll Half Marathon! Finally accomplished something I began training for since November 2008.  My time was 2:18:24, which is about 45 minutes better than I expected. I feel incredible.  I cried at the finish line. It's hard to explain exactly how much that meant to me... I lost 30 pounds for this event... I have never felt better in my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what? I spent all that time training for this- what will I do next?  I plan on doing at least two more of these this year, then next year I will do a FULL marathon- all 26.1 miles of it!! (OHMYGOSH)  I'm pretty excited, it's something I really want to do- and I WILL do it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and guess what else I'm going to try?  I got an email from WSU about the varsity women's rowing team, it said that no experience was required... so I took their survey, plan on attending a meeting about the team, then trying out for it!! Ha, ha- I'm really excited. I've never even CONSIDERED rowing as something to do... Heck, I didn't even know Universities gave people a chance to try out for VARSITY teams with no experience in the sport. Girls who have been rowing since middle school try out for the team- how much chance do I have?  All well, I'm going to take two rowing classes this summer, and I definitely have the strength. I just need to lose a little more weight and I think I'll have a shot. I mean, why not try- right?!? You never know, I might be a natural. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3949764793195081863?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3949764793195081863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3949764793195081863' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3949764793195081863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3949764793195081863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/06/ready-set-go-and-accomplished.html' title='Ready, set, GO! ...and accomplished.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2544016580356189608</id><published>2009-06-05T11:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T11:31:01.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dane Cook. (again) and..uh, it turns out it was MY pennies that needed to be sorted. :/</title><content type='html'>First: in regards to my last post... well, I should be embarrassed. Turns out I've been overreacting, but he hasn't been clear. So we kind of evened each other out. We had a long overdue conversation and it went well. No one has to kill anybody haha. :) Thankfully he understands, because my last relationship was destructive in many ways... so my trust is shattered. He knows, he understands, and wants to repair that. Oh yay. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DANE COOK TONIGHT! WOO HOO! What's better is I don't know any of his jokes, so it will actually be hilarious. :-D yay! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2544016580356189608?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2544016580356189608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2544016580356189608' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2544016580356189608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2544016580356189608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/06/dane-cook-again-anduh-it-turns-out-it.html' title='Dane Cook. (again) and..uh, it turns out it was MY pennies that needed to be sorted. :/'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-979762154590806250</id><published>2009-06-04T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T07:40:20.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What kind of crappy roller coaster is this?</title><content type='html'>You know what drives me off the fucking wall? A guy that cant keep his pennies in a row or whatever the eff that saying is. You like a girl, or you don't like a girl? Hey- it might be good to figure that shit out BEFORE you get involved, yeah? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, it's so irritating when you do all those cute things you do to reel the girls in, and you even tell her how much you like her when it's really just bullshit. You really think it's that easy to get me in bed? Sorry sweetie, my ex abused and used me enough to make me see what you're doing. So go ahead and keep on working on your right forearm muscles so you can jerk yourself off asshole. My regret? That I didn't do something about it sooner. I fell into the trap of, "Well, maybe I AM special." HAHA! Yeah, no. I'm not, well- at least to you. Because I'm pretty damn cool, and I feel bad that you don't realize the amazing person that could of been in your life. All well, it's your loss.  Obviously I'm disappointed that you turned out this way... but hey, I'm about to go to college and meet a ton of awesome guys. So, I don't care. Do what you want. But hey, we can be friends, right? You're MUCH better at that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i feel better. whew. writing it out totally helps. now i'm gonna go on a run and i'll feel doubly better. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-979762154590806250?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/979762154590806250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=979762154590806250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/979762154590806250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/979762154590806250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-kind-of-crappy-roller-coaster-is.html' title='What kind of crappy roller coaster is this?'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8161943552593279562</id><published>2009-06-01T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T13:56:50.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's June, and my freakin out begins.</title><content type='html'>27 Days: half marathon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime this month I find out about my living situation at WSU. (PLEASE HAVE MY OWN ROOM! PLEASE!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July: going to San Fran for a week. Gotta look good for that too. and I MUST be careful on how i spend my money. shitwhore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August: Aunts wedding. Moving to WSU. Gonna be on my own. Away from everything I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am absolutely terrified. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excited, but terrified. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8161943552593279562?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8161943552593279562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8161943552593279562' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8161943552593279562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8161943552593279562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-june-and-my-freakin-out-begins.html' title='It&apos;s June, and my freakin out begins.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5414906423480931184</id><published>2009-05-21T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T11:00:46.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who's back?</title><content type='html'>Wow, almost a month without blogging... I haven't done that for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* sigh * I have a lot on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My countdowns are getting closer, and unique situations are toying with my mind... 38 days until my half marathon, 88 days until I go away to college, and I have no idea what's going on between me and this guy. I'm kinda going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm extremely nervous for my half marathon... I don't think I'll be ready for it... bet ALL WELL, I'm doing it anyway (so I should change my freaking attitude). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm terrified to go to college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And does this guy REALLY like me? Or is he just fucking with me?  I think I'm just  over exaggerating. I tend to do that. And I have trust issues, so that really doesn't help. AH- him and I just need to have a serious conversation. Get all of our questions answered and be done with it. We would of already of had this conversation, too- if our plans to hang out didn't always get buggered up some how. The past three times we've tried to hang out either something came up for him or something came up for me. We're both started to get irritated by that. I might just say fuck it and message him about it even though I HATE HATE HATE it when people don't talk to me face to face. But I also don't want to wait it out and let everything I'm thinking/feeling build up inside me and then explode. I just want to get it over with. Plus I get really nervous in front of him, and if I just message him then I can say everything I want to say the right way I want to say it. *sigh* Whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went camping last weekend last weekend and that was AWESOME! I started learning how to drive a quad, which is badass. It was 80 degree weather the whole time, and we camped RIGHT NEXT to the river. We had to be careful not to fall in. haha, it was incredible. :) So yay to that. But I'm definitely not gonna drink beer for a long time. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAH. Well. I'll blog more happy things later. haha :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5414906423480931184?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5414906423480931184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5414906423480931184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5414906423480931184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5414906423480931184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/05/guess-whos-back.html' title='Guess who&apos;s back?'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1891782799658180787</id><published>2009-04-24T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T10:14:01.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks, sunshine.</title><content type='html'>Momma Nature is being nice to Washingtonians this month and giving us some very pretty spring sunshine... which makes many people happier. Now that I actually look okay enough to wear a tank top in public, I can actually enjoy my spring/summer to the absolute fullest (for the first time in 11 years)! Warmth/heat: I welcome you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next adventure will be a camping trip in the middle of May. I'm so excited. It's going to be my childhood best friend (Nadean), her boyfriend (Brian), her boyfriends best friend Ryan (him and I went on a date last night. just a simple side note), and a bunch of their other friends. I think Nadean and I will be the only girls, too!! haha! Which I am insanely happy with, because girls are drama, and Nadean and I are extremely drama free. Especially since her and I are practically sisters and get along beautifully. And we both have tomboy tendencies, so we want to do all those "guy things".  Ryan had this big mofo Quad he's going to bring, so that will be bad ass. We'll also be fishing, bungee jumping, hiking, and drinking (of course). I love camping. This is going to be so much fun. AH! I'M SO EXCITED!  This will be the first time I go with a bunch of friends and no parents.... so that's cool. We're also going to go to Portland for a night so we can hit the clubs.... Ah, it's going to be such a good weekend. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, all I've really been doing is running more and more. My half marathon is in 65 days, and I need to kick up the milage I'm running. I've only been running 6 miles a day, and I HAVE to start running 8. (Half Marathons are 13.2 miles) When you train for it, you only practice running the actual distance maybe... once.  I really don't want to. Haha! The first time I run that far WILL be the day of the event. Which is fine. Everyone who has run these before say if I can run 8 miles, then I'll be just fine. It's 99% mental power, and I'm pretty good at focusing. So it'll be wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;I'm only worried about one thing.  I still have 20 pounds to lose, and turning 21 is definitely a set back. I need to stop letting it be an excuse to eat all the carbs I've been eating. And I can totally drink less. Well, I can either drink less or drink white wine (which has five calories for 8oz, which is pretty good).. but I really should avoid it altogether. But to be realistic- I'm not going to avoid it. I just don't have to drink it every time I go out! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, update on guy things... Erik and I are friends (I bluntly called him a man whore and told him I just want to be his friend. He responded surprisingly well.) Had a date with Ryan last night (he just got accepted into the Coast Guard- ah, I can't stay away from military men, huh?), and I'm suppose to be going on another date with this guy Kevin who looks like a personal trainer, but I have no idea what he does. We have two mutual friends, we met at a party, and that's all I got. I kinda feel like a player, but everything is extremely casual and not a big deal in the slightest. So. Cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I've been rambling hardcore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile since I've blogged, so I guess I'm just letting it all out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AH IT'S SO PRETTY OUTSIDE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have three huge cherry blossom trees, and they look spectacular. The flowers are starting to fall off, which is dusting everything in the neighborhood pink, haha!  But no one cares, because it's pretty. :) Happy sun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could play the piano.&lt;br /&gt;I think if I knew how to play it, I would be good at it. haha, but who knows that?! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here are two more pics of vegas (kinda).  The one with me in plaid is mia and i being gangster on our way to the airport :) and the other one of of me outside The Venetian!  I'll slowly be posting more and more pics if you fancy to see them. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SfHy1Xm428I/AAAAAAAAAHI/kZzRDCuN9CA/s1600-h/3198_72480008482_694538482_1740063_4166199_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SfHy1Xm428I/AAAAAAAAAHI/kZzRDCuN9CA/s320/3198_72480008482_694538482_1740063_4166199_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328306832840121282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SfHy1fE-K4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/I5zpVO2RObM/s1600-h/3198_72462078482_694538482_1739786_6998147_n.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/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SfHy1fE-K4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/I5zpVO2RObM/s320/3198_72462078482_694538482_1739786_6998147_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328306834845346690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1891782799658180787?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1891782799658180787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1891782799658180787' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1891782799658180787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1891782799658180787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/04/thanks-sunshine.html' title='Thanks, sunshine.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SfHy1Xm428I/AAAAAAAAAHI/kZzRDCuN9CA/s72-c/3198_72480008482_694538482_1740063_4166199_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4711599277615246185</id><published>2009-04-15T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T19:22:04.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That was insane.</title><content type='html'>Vegas was INCREDIBLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved everything about the trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being there with my best friend&lt;br /&gt;dressing up sparkly and fancy for the WHOLE day, drinking from 10am to one in the morning (the only place where it's okay to be drunk all day for four days in a row) &lt;br /&gt;having all sorts of sexy gorgeous men hitting on me&lt;br /&gt; actually making out with one of them (yummy)&lt;br /&gt; getting cool bartenders to buy us drinks (ladies, only go to the males ones, the chicks are bitches...unless you're a guy, of course)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO MANY WONDERFUL memories... wow..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vegas is the BEST! I love being 21 :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SeaWPQmWKLI/AAAAAAAAAG4/9gofyWmPkXo/s1600-h/DSC00254.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SeaWPQmWKLI/AAAAAAAAAG4/9gofyWmPkXo/s320/DSC00254.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325108798310197426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4711599277615246185?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4711599277615246185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4711599277615246185' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4711599277615246185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4711599277615246185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/04/that-was-insane.html' title='That was insane.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SeaWPQmWKLI/AAAAAAAAAG4/9gofyWmPkXo/s72-c/DSC00254.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4005226873610269684</id><published>2009-04-07T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T12:41:46.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/birthday%20candles" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i648.photobucket.com/albums/uu206/alyxhermann/birthday-candles.jpg" border="0" alt="happy birthday alyx !=D Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 21 today! Woot! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VEGAS TOMORROW! YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4005226873610269684?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4005226873610269684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4005226873610269684' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4005226873610269684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4005226873610269684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/04/birthday.html' title='Birthday!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-6663686295848527835</id><published>2009-03-30T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T19:14:03.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh, the smell of college life.</title><content type='html'>I had a taste of it, and I want it bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I went to a transfer fair at WSU.  They showed me around campus, gave me tons of info, and I signed up for Fall classes! What is awesome is that the students that attended the transfer fair were the VERY FIRST students to even sign up for fall classes... and I was the first appointment of the day... so I was *literally* the FIRST person to register for fall classes out of the ENTIRE school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO cool to think of it like that. And strange. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to get involved in the school... I REALLY want to be apart of clubs, sports, the whole thing. Meet new people... oh this is going to be fabulous. SO EXCITED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AH! Five months can't move any slower and faster at the same time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) :) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-6663686295848527835?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/6663686295848527835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=6663686295848527835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6663686295848527835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6663686295848527835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/ahh-smell-of-college-life.html' title='Ahh, the smell of college life.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5513097615037423359</id><published>2009-03-26T10:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:55:12.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That was a record breaker.</title><content type='html'>This has been one hell of a week. And this post is going to be almost totally embarrassing. HIGH to LOW. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, is there something horribly wrong with me? Am I that unlovable? How am I never good enough? Why is it so fucking hilarious to fuck with my head? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;So... you like a girl, so you send her "Good morning, gorgeous" text messages, continue to text her fairly consistently all day (for four days) asking questions about her (you even told her that you couldn't sleep because you were thinking about her, and you tell her this at 4 IN THE MORNING)... oh, you also tell her that you're nervous to be around her (which girls love to hear), you want to hang out and get to know her... so you hang out, and you hold her, play with her hair, kiss her head, and have an adorable nap day.... at this point you've pretty much "got her". girls love that cuddle shit. you have done everything to let her know that you're interested, you even straight up tell her you're interested in her. it's all good.... right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, after a cute day with the new girl you're crushing on.... your ex calls... and suddenly all those emotions that have to do with your ex come back to you... you miss your ex.... she misses you... but this new girl... oh god, what do you do? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me tell you what happens to me (and this is NOT the first time this has happened to me).  They go back to the ex, you know- the one that cheated on them.  Normally they're skinny, big breasted blonde bimbos... for all I know, they could be sweet as cherry pie... and they could be great girls. hell, they might be- i don't know. but they cheated, so how great can they really be?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never cheated, I would NEVER do that.  I'm thoughtful, understanding, I listen, compromise, careful with how I word things... how am I never good enough? Why is it always the other girl? As I lose weight, it becomes harder to blame my physical appearance, because (self-centered moment) I'm looking damn gorgeous. He has told me numerous times that he thinks I'm pretty.... so I can't blame it on being fat, 'cause I'm not anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;So, my personality then... This guy doesn't know me enough to make such a judgement, and as for things we have talked about so far, we are pretty compatible. &lt;br /&gt;Well then, it's because he doesn't know me. He knows her, he had a relationship with this girl, it must be extremely hard to resist.  How does he know what I'll be like? He has no idea what I would be like, we've barely scratched the surface of friendship, for goodness sakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just say, he definitely broke the record.  On average a guy will like me for, oh, two months then ditch me for "someone better". Only took him four days. N.I.C.E.  In a way, I am totally burned... but I am also grateful. At least this is only a paper cut instead of a gun shot to the chest. This is much easier to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know, this guy is a coward, just like my ex. I am SO DONE with guys who have no balls. Men- you aren't so fucking tough. I seriously have way more guts then any of the guys I've dated multiplied by one million. One of my exes told me that "I was intimidating." and listed reasons why I was intimidating. I'm sorry, but I think that is the most bullshit excuse ever... haha, one of the best things I've ever said: "Oh, I'm intimidating? Or are you the pussy in the relationship?" BAM. I so won. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One god damn text, and he chipped a hole in my wall. Bravo, Hollister model, you made me realize that I need to make my wall out of steel, not bricks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I was so hoping to get laid, too. All well. Vegas? (KIDDING. SO KIDDING.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY. I needed to blog. Feeling a bit better. I'm going to run now, and work on the punching bag. Then have a beer with my brother. :) ahh, good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5513097615037423359?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5513097615037423359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5513097615037423359' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5513097615037423359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5513097615037423359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/that-was-record-breaker.html' title='That was a record breaker.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8095958456285217891</id><published>2009-03-22T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:52:32.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made that 10k my bitch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SccHNmjcjuI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BhAvCuleGQk/s1600-h/DSC00198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SccHNmjcjuI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BhAvCuleGQk/s320/DSC00198.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316225815403073250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely kicked major ass. The course was mostly hills, but I still ran the ENTIRE time! My time was 62 minutes and whatever seconds. I did pretty damn good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm extremely proud, and I am officially a running addict. I loooooooooooved this. I cant wait to run more, and I AM PUMPED FOR MY HALF MARATHON! WOO HOO! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) :) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8095958456285217891?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8095958456285217891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8095958456285217891' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8095958456285217891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8095958456285217891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-made-that-10k-my-bitch.html' title='I made that 10k my bitch'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SccHNmjcjuI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BhAvCuleGQk/s72-c/DSC00198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5695255476365321603</id><published>2009-03-21T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T10:26:15.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I swear I almost puked my organs out.</title><content type='html'>I am so awkward.  Gold star for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was... well, awkward.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I mentioned that there was another Deaf Coffee Night last night, and this is one of the more popular ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll spare as many pointless details as possible... but man, I gotta note that I was insanely nervous. I'm not even kidding, I have never, E.V.E.R been this fucking nervous to see a guy in my life... and it's probably because he is WAY more gorgeous than ANY of my boyfriends or guy I've dated.  Ladies, I'm not kidding, he comes straight from a Hollister catalogue.  I never thought I would go for a guy like that, but damn- I CANT RESIST. Oh, and he happens to be sweetheart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's funny... because we have been texting each other constantly since wednesday night, and he said that he was excited to see me and talk to me and etc... but guess what? It turns out some of his friends he hasn't seen for months surprised him... and a bunch of my own friends were there... so we pretty much stayed in our own group of friends. At dinner, we ended up sitting at opposite sides of the table. We could still see each other, but it was too far to have any sort of conversation.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was disappointed. But whatever, I had to act chill. Everyone started to leave, and he walked with me, I said I had to go... he said text me, I walked away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YUP. I'M AWKWARD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we weren't done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to text him and tell him that I was sorry for being awkward, and that I was just extremely nervous... and you know what? he felt the same way. he felt super shy, and he said he wished he were talking to me and not them.... and he just doesn't want to say anything stupid (ditto)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you know what? i can honestly say that he is the first guy to admit anything like this. he felt as nervous as I did? Really? He would of rather talked to me? He thought I looked pretty? has he seriously text me good morning two days in a row now? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pessimism: how long is this gonna last? i mean, really?  seemingly perfect guys don't happen to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My optimism: enjoy the moment, he is incredibly sweet... and honest (love that)... eeeeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize for my awkward posts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I'm happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, AND I'M DONE AT COMMUNITY COLLEGE FOREVER!!!! WOO HOO OMG! Now I get five months to just work, hang out, go on trips, and enjoy life until WSU. WOO HOO!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5695255476365321603?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5695255476365321603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5695255476365321603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5695255476365321603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5695255476365321603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-swear-i-almost-puked-my-organs-out.html' title='I swear I almost puked my organs out.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-651037120156410019</id><published>2009-03-19T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T23:38:13.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a schoolgirl again...</title><content type='html'>..so silly.   oh, and this is such a chick post. just so you guys know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I guess it's important for ya'll to know that I put on a big front to people (that are not my best friends), that I'm strong and independent... and since I have been in relationships that have disappointed me (my last ex treated me like shit)... that I'm extremely happy to be single, and over the past few months I have turned down guys that have asked me out because I don't need a guy to be happy. Whatever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in reality I'm lonely. That's that. It's easier to lie like that then open my hand and welcome it.  I LOVE love, to me that's what living is all about... but I'm contradicting myself by being closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is why I find this interesting and slightly humorous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every wednesday night at my starbucks there is a Deaf Coffee Night, where ASL students get together to practice and once in a while deaf people actually come. Well, lately this new guy has been coming... he's hard of hearing, raised in the Deaf Culture- he can talk really well and hear okay. He's 21... and really, &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing with me is, when I meet a guy that I find really attractive, I get really nervous and don't say much. Plus, since he grew up using ASL, I was embarrassed of how he would criticize my signing skill (since I feel like I'm getting worse and worse..sad)... so I tried hard to avoid conversation with him.  He, however, tried again and again to talk to me, and I would be shy/rude and awkwardly turn away to my other friends... I didn't think he cared, because a TON of his good buddies are there, so I didn't think it was a big deal. (see where this is going, anyone?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, last night he walked me to my car, said good night- it was chill, no big deal.  i get in my car, and he starts walking away.. then I see him stop, turn around and start walking back towards me. so i get back out and ask what's up... he asked for my number.  still no big deal, i think nothing of it. i mean, him and i have barely talked, so whatever. a lot of guys think I'm hilarious and want my number, but never use it. i'm use to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we swap numbers... I drive away.  Yeah- he texts me saying how he thinks i'm extremely cute, and he has wanted to ask for my number since we met but didn't have the guts to do it until now.... and he wanted to talk to me more during coffee nights, but was nervous to talk to me. (automatic "AWWW" for girls.. we LOVE hearing shit like that. soak it up) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--SIDE NOTE PEOPLE- I don't expect things like this, I was completely shocked. And flattered, because he is seriously Hollister model attractive, and THEY CERTAINLY never give me a second look. dear gawd.   Me- down to earth, non-skinny bitch me... get hit on by this guy?  I pinched myself (really hard). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept talking. He wants to hang out sometime, and we were texting all day today... (he would of called me, but he can't hear on the phone... too low frequency or something. texting is what we do in the deaf world)....... and you know, I watch for the uninterested signs, i try REALLY hard to see why a guy wouldn't be interested in me (defense mechanism)... and so far, there is no way this guy is uninterested. He is most definitely interested. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now.  We'll see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But shit, tomorrow night is another Deaf Coffee Night, and we're seeing each other there... from what I know, none of our ASL friends know that we have been talking, hell- they don't even know he asked for my number. at least, my ASL friends don't. It's going to be awkward. I don't want it to be, I'll try to let it be cool... but I'm such an awkward person anyway.. and it's hard to look at him and pay attention to what he's saying at the same time... his face distracts me. I get so nervous anyway. DAMN, I'm nervous just THINKING about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh dear, i'm in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEED A SLAP IN THE FACE. in fact, I might just tell my friend kirsten to slap me- she would do it. Yeah, I'll do that. I'll need it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopefully he'll just think my awkwardness is cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all his girls that are friends are drop dead gorgeous. how do i compare to that? :(  yeah yeah, i'm cute... but... they're soooo prettyy...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY ME?  why the second a guy tells me i'm cute, i fall apart like a little bitch? i need to find my toughness! COME BACK! Maybe I'll box before I go, or give my self a badass pep talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ridiculous. I sound stupid right now. Stupid. I need to shut my dumb, stupid mouth. Fucking a.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End. I'll blog about how I humiliate myself tomorrow night. Ahhh, I can see all the awkward possibilities now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture has no relevance, it's just really really really really really pretty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/fantasy" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i686.photobucket.com/albums/vv230/Sneaks_bucket/Fantasy/fantasy-8.jpg" border="0" alt="Fantasy Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-651037120156410019?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/651037120156410019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=651037120156410019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/651037120156410019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/651037120156410019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/like-schoolgirl-again.html' title='Like a schoolgirl again...'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i686.photobucket.com/albums/vv230/Sneaks_bucket/Fantasy/th_fantasy-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4866811216148377370</id><published>2009-03-18T23:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T23:49:10.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Such a chick.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/chick" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w63/Anitacook_13/Spring/SpringChick.jpg" border="0" alt="Spring Chick Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we have to over-analyze things? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to remember: be straight forward. Don't read between the lines. Don't get carried away. It's chill, calm the fuck down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complicated? Yes and no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave it at that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4866811216148377370?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4866811216148377370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4866811216148377370' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4866811216148377370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4866811216148377370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/such-chick.html' title='Such a chick.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w63/Anitacook_13/Spring/th_SpringChick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1250410962039779116</id><published>2009-03-17T23:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T23:16:03.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll spend my golden years in Cortona, Italy </title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;One day... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/map?zoom=11&amp;amp;maptype=map&amp;amp;key=ABQIAAAAz4I5iDWfLKXRJqwY_lxrMRSDGNZDWabFcZHPH02nr_QeuITw5hT0k3Ux-ovu3Vn8nZoGpAsaKOTz7Q&amp;amp;center=43.2740814,11.9877538&amp;amp;sensor=false&amp;amp;size=400x300" width="400" height="300" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  There is something about waking up, throwing open the shutters to the slant of sun in a piazza where merchants are setting up for business, and drinking my morning coffee on my balcony sounds incredible. It&amp;#39;s a gorgeous place... so homey.... I want to be there so bad. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="clear:both; margin: 0; padding: 0; margin-top:10px; font-size: 13px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 24px;" class="plinky_badge_rid:6367"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.plinky.com/mini/reroute/6367"&gt;    &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/badge?id=6367" style="border: 0; padding-right: 4px; vertical-align: middle;" alt="" title="" /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1250410962039779116?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1250410962039779116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1250410962039779116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1250410962039779116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1250410962039779116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-spend-my-golden-years-in-cortona.html' title='I&amp;#39;ll spend my golden years in Cortona, Italy '/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8755538968440929967</id><published>2009-03-17T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T16:18:21.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Miles.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/open%20road" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i223.photobucket.com/albums/dd87/Jordan2251/open-road2.jpg" border="0" alt="open road Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have ran the longest I ever have outside. (So far.) I'm running a 10k this sunday (they're 6.2 miles), and on accident I ran 7 miles.  I'M GOING TO MAKE THAT 10K MY BITCH.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me one hour to run 7 miles, which means I ran a, oh, 10 minute and 30 second mile?  On the treadmill I run a 8 minute mile, but you know what- running outside is A LOT harder to do.  I ran up hills, on trails and concrete, and the ground doesn't give you an extra 'bounce' in your step. Plus it's cold, so my lungs burn a bit.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so freaking proud of myself, though.  I haven't been this fit since I boxed!  (Speaking of boxing, a personal trainer at my gym lets me use his punching bag when he's not using it... and now he even uses me as an example when he's training people! He told me my technique is still good even though i haven't sparred for, oh my gosh, three years now? Ah! I thought I sucked! ha ha!)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The countdown has begun!!!!!!     103 DAYS UNTIL MY HALF MARATHON!  YAY!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Is it weird that after running that far, my shoulders are really sore? I don't get that. They hurt more than my legs! (????)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8755538968440929967?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8755538968440929967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8755538968440929967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8755538968440929967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8755538968440929967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/7-miles.html' title='7 Miles.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1182651553116720015</id><published>2009-03-16T22:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T22:46:01.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am swirling in a clusterfuck of emotion.</title><content type='html'>Ah, I don't even know where to begin. Or if I should even start. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just one of those days at work, when you want to stop and look at your co-workers and say: "Really? Are you serious?"  Maybe even giving them a good slap on the face. As long as people actually do their job, I don't care what they say. However, when all they do is stand there and bitch and moan about the most pointless shit.... That's when I switch off and become a bossy biotch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha, ha- at one point a customer even looked at me in shock and said, "HOW do you stay so positive all the time?" What she meant: 'With these dramatic co-workers, how can you STAND it?'    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I am a happy person- and this is how I do it: 1) I take VERY FEW things personally. 2) Be optimistic. 3) Why should I let little things bother me? If they're little, why should I make them matter? STAY CALM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can go on and on. People all have their bad days, but I really try to stay positive most of the time... keep calm... it's good for my mental health.  Plus the fact that I have a few good ways to take out my anger out helps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sorry, I find this sad. There is a customer who is, oh, 26 years old, and he has known me since I first started working at Starbucks when I was 16- and since he has asked me out at least once every two months. I have made up the most insane excuses to not go out with him, I even flat out told him I wasn't interesting in dating.  If he wasn't the creepiest and dumbest fuck I've ever met, I would of actually humored the guy and gone on the dumb ass date. But no, I refuse. He is crazy, awkward, creepy, and DUMB. Just... wow. So dumb. I wonder how he gets through a day. He is the kind of guy that would forget a red light means STOP. Not kidding. He told me about it. HOW DO YOU FORGET THAT?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1182651553116720015?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1182651553116720015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1182651553116720015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1182651553116720015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1182651553116720015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-swirling-in-clusterfuck-of-emotion.html' title='I am swirling in a clusterfuck of emotion.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5442698851792028819</id><published>2009-03-15T18:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T18:03:32.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could tame a wild animal</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;  To me, there is almost nothing more bad ass then having a lion as a pet.  Seriously.  If I was going to be in a fight (of any kind) I would just say: &amp;quot;First, let me introduce you to my kitty. TRIXIE!&amp;quot; then BAM a fucking lion. You would never mess with that. &lt;br/&gt;Shoot, I feel like a bad ass just thinking about it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="clear:both; margin: 0; padding: 0; margin-top:10px; font-size: 13px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 24px;" class="plinky_badge_rid:6009"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.plinky.com/mini/reroute/6009"&gt;    &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/badge?id=6009" style="border: 0; padding-right: 4px; vertical-align: middle;" alt="" title="" /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5442698851792028819?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5442698851792028819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5442698851792028819' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5442698851792028819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5442698851792028819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-i-could-tame-wild-animal.html' title='If I could tame a wild animal'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7510017310192389669</id><published>2009-03-15T17:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:58:28.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you pay me enough, I'll sing these songs at a karaoke bar.</title><content type='html'>  &lt;div style="clear: both;"&gt;    &lt;p style="float: left; margin: 0; padding: 0 10px 10px 0;"&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Aretha+Franklin++RESPECT&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="Grab this Song from Amazon"&gt;        &lt;img style="border: 0;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51gC%2Bsg9nKL._SS250_.jpg" width="125" /&gt;      &lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin: 0 0 0 110px; padding: 0;"&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Aretha+Franklin++RESPECT&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="Grab this Song from Amazon"&gt;RESPECT&lt;/a&gt;      by      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Aretha+Franklin+&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="More from this Artist on Amazon"&gt;Aretha Franklin &lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin: 0 0 0 110px; padding: 0 0 10px 0;"&gt;      I think this is the most fun song to sing with the girls. C&amp;#39;mon.     &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="clear: both;"&gt;    &lt;p style="float: left; margin: 0; padding: 0 10px 10px 0;"&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Madonna+Express+Yourself&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="Grab this Song from Amazon"&gt;        &lt;img style="border: 0;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51C4zeo5jaL._SS250_.jpg" width="125" /&gt;      &lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin: 0 0 0 110px; padding: 0;"&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Madonna+Express+Yourself&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="Grab this Song from Amazon"&gt;Express Yourself&lt;/a&gt;      by      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Madonna&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="More from this Artist on Amazon"&gt;Madonna&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin: 0 0 0 110px; padding: 0 0 10px 0;"&gt;      Why not? So great.     &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="clear: both;"&gt;    &lt;p style="float: left; margin: 0; padding: 0 10px 10px 0;"&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Jason+Mraz+Dynamo+of+Volition+&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="Grab this Song from Amazon"&gt;        &lt;img style="border: 0;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41V2%2B6wIY8L._SS250_.jpg" width="125" /&gt;      &lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin: 0 0 0 110px; padding: 0;"&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Jason+Mraz+Dynamo+of+Volition+&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="Grab this Song from Amazon"&gt;Dynamo of Volition &lt;/a&gt;      by      &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;keywords=Jason+Mraz&amp;amp;index=digital-music&amp;amp;tag=plinky09-20" title="More from this Artist on Amazon"&gt;Jason Mraz&lt;/a&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="margin: 0 0 0 110px; padding: 0 0 10px 0;"&gt;      It&amp;#39;s a fun rap song, so I wouldn&amp;#39;t have to use my singing voice. I feel bad for people who have heard me sing.     &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="clear:both; margin: 0; padding: 0; margin-top:10px; font-size: 13px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 24px;" class="plinky_badge_rid:6007"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.plinky.com/mini/reroute/6007"&gt;    &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/badge?id=6007" style="border: 0; padding-right: 4px; vertical-align: middle;" alt="" title="" /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7510017310192389669?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7510017310192389669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7510017310192389669' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7510017310192389669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7510017310192389669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-you-pay-me-enough-i-sing-these-songs.html' title='If you pay me enough, I&amp;#39;ll sing these songs at a karaoke bar.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-9201699735109897159</id><published>2009-03-15T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:22:50.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plinky.com</title><content type='html'>I've mentioned this site once before, and since they continue to have pretty entertaining questions I went ahead and connected it to this blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More ways to  procrastinate on what I SHOULD be doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO FINALS WEEK!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-9201699735109897159?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/9201699735109897159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=9201699735109897159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/9201699735109897159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/9201699735109897159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/plinkycom.html' title='Plinky.com'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3383298793520979145</id><published>2009-03-15T17:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T17:20:28.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's keep the peace: starer please.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;On a long bus ride, would you rather sit next to an irritating talker, or a quiet starer? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;  Personally, I would probably punch the irritating talker in the face. If I sat next to a quiet starer, I would be more polite and ask them to stop staring, or I would blog about the awkward starer.  Much more peaceful. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="clear:both; margin: 0; padding: 0; margin-top:10px; font-size: 13px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 24px;" class="plinky_badge_rid:6005"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.plinky.com/mini/reroute/6005"&gt;    &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/badge?id=6005" style="border: 0; padding-right: 4px; vertical-align: middle;" alt="" title="" /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3383298793520979145?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3383298793520979145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3383298793520979145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3383298793520979145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3383298793520979145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/let-keep-peace-starer-please.html' title='Let&amp;#39;s keep the peace: starer please.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8515807837116593804</id><published>2009-03-12T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T20:01:25.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maui Melon Mint</title><content type='html'>Is a very strange flavor of orbit gum, but damn it's addicting. I can't get enough of its weirdness.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a decision: I'm going to see how many hours my boss gives me at Sbux, then decide from there. He might give me more than I'm expecting... however, I'm leaning toward trying to work at this cute really small restaurant. It's only for five months, if I can handle crazy people with their lattes, I think I can handle customers with their food.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH SNAP- I have the most ridiculous story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in the woman's restroom at work, I noticed an envelope on the sink saying "To Whomever", I was curious, but I decided to ignore it. Whatever.  Four hours later I went back and it was still there. So I decided, "Why not? It's addressed to whomever."   I open it, and the opening sentence is something like, "This is a story about how I met God in REAL LIFE."  Then she goes on about how he spoke to her and said that if anyone watched Oprah (I'm not kidding) then they were "renouncing Jesus and they were damned to hell because they're devil spirits." And a whole bunch of ridiculous shit like that. WHAT. And they woman wrote her name all over it, so I gave it to the security guard. You know how much trouble you can get in for things like that? SNAPS.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, I'm spiritual and everything... but really people? That is just ridiculous. WOW. I almost wish I kept it so I could write exactly what she said, I'm awful at telling stories I do it NO justice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever. The point is it was creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I applied for a a solo dorm at WSU. I REALLY hope I get my own room, if I got a roommate I would probably kill her. I love people, but man- I like my space more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;107 days until my half marathon. SWEET. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 days until my birthday. Whoa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 days until my 10k (6.3 miles). yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaand I am definitely procrastinating on doing homework. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8515807837116593804?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8515807837116593804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8515807837116593804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8515807837116593804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8515807837116593804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/maui-melon-mint.html' title='Maui Melon Mint'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3251163724965976796</id><published>2009-03-10T09:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T10:09:31.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Options can be overwhelming.</title><content type='html'>I only have two weeks left at community college. (Yay!) But man, what am I gonna do for five months? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the thing: I need money. I'm going on four vacations (Vegas, San Fransico, San Juan Islands, St. Louis). Not to mention I just bought tickets to see a comedy show, and I need to run a few more 10k's (which you do pay for) before my half marathon. And, of course, I'll be spending money on the vacations.  OH- make that five, I'm probably going camping in May and we want to go bungee jumping (which is almost $200... DAMN IT). So, my bank account is probably gonna be at the bare minimum by the time I go away to college. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMN IT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, somehow during these five months, I have to either:&lt;br /&gt;A) Convince my manager to schedual me more... and post in every single Starbucks in the district that if they need to get a shift covered they should call me&lt;br /&gt;B) Get a second job.  This is tricky. If I do, what place hires people that only want to work for five months? (and I need a lot of days off). &lt;br /&gt;-I guess restaurants go though people quick like that, but I would hate to be a waitress... ohh man. &lt;br /&gt;-Go back to working on the farm (?) I did it once, but they don't pay very well for all the hours I would be working.&lt;br /&gt;-another cafe? maybe a cute independent one? or a little restaurant? if it's not a big corporate one i might like it... &lt;br /&gt;-Nanny? I hear that's an awesome option, because you choose the hours you want to work.. here's my problem: I hate children.  But for money I'll put on my happy face and be nice.&lt;br /&gt;-I am so freaking picky with where to work. I wont just get any job, it has to be what I would consider a nice place. I will never work at a Fred Meyer (no offence if you guys ever did, but I just can't do it.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could work anywhere, it would be The Body Shop... I want to work there so bad. But I tried to apply months ago- but you're suppose to fill out the application and take a test online... the app works fine, but I tried SIX different computers and the test wont work. DAMN IT. Plus there is so much training involved by the time I was actually good at it I would have to go to college. &lt;br /&gt;-I hate folding clothes. So no clothing stores.&lt;br /&gt;-Book store? Possible. I love books. But putting them away would SUCK ASS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS SO DAMN COMPLICATED. I'm stressing out, which is totally unnesessary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus my volunteer work on top if this. AHHH *hits head with palm of hand* WHATEVER. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C) ...yeah, I don't really have an option C. I need to make money. Bottom line. Maybe I should sell parts of my body and get advertising tattoos. I hear they pay you THOUSANDS for that.  (I'm kidding, that's just gross) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I hope an idea punches me in the face- and soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to talk to my mom and dad. They usually have good ideas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is definitely one of my longest posts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AhHhhHhHHHhhh............ *deep breath* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;smile :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3251163724965976796?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3251163724965976796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3251163724965976796' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3251163724965976796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3251163724965976796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/options-can-be-overwhelming.html' title='Options can be overwhelming.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3522596781344245852</id><published>2009-03-09T21:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T21:45:47.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Momma Nature, you are such a bitch.</title><content type='html'>It has been snowing hardcore ever since I posted my "Dear Momma Nature" post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, what a BITCH.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is pretty, and I'm getting gorgeous pictures out of it... but c'mon- REALLY?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll use the video option on my camera and record the ridiculous whirlwind of snow if it continues tomorrow... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....I am on the internet way to much. It's getting ridiculous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/love" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i410.photobucket.com/albums/pp190/FindStuff2/Best%20Images/Love/love-sick1.jpg" border="0" alt="love Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3522596781344245852?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3522596781344245852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3522596781344245852' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3522596781344245852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3522596781344245852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/momma-nature-you-are-such-bitch.html' title='Momma Nature, you are such a bitch.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5801791062188708185</id><published>2009-03-09T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T11:10:35.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>epic.</title><content type='html'>Dane Cook. Seattle. June 5th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be able to see his spit fly out of his mouth and touch his shoes. AGAIN. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My gawd, I am spending my money so fast, I will have none by the time I GET to WSU... and I wont have a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do 100 great reasons to spend my money have to happen now?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All well, the memory is SO worth it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/dane%20cook" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i595.photobucket.com/albums/tt36/nataliewine/Dane.jpg" border="0" alt="dane cook Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/dane%20cook" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k417/Yuuri_chan/thDaneCookQuote2.png" border="0" alt="Dane Cook Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/dane%20cook" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i326.photobucket.com/albums/k417/Yuuri_chan/th1642492-1.png" border="0" alt="Dane Cook Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5801791062188708185?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5801791062188708185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5801791062188708185' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5801791062188708185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5801791062188708185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/epic.html' title='epic.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5961362165137177605</id><published>2009-03-07T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T22:26:48.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Success!</title><content type='html'>Today was a pretty great day.  My neighbors donated a lot of money and (apparently) have a lot of books they're willing to get rid off. I just hope they remember to put them on their doorstep next saturday.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also cleaned my room, which was MUCH needed. It was the 'can't walk across the room without tripping' kind of mess. When I woke up every morning and looked at my room, I think "how the fuck did this happen???"  Laziness + procrastination my friends.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have a camera that can record video, I should try to do a video blog one of these days. Ha ha. It would be cool, but I know I would watch it and think "I look and sound retarded. Nope."  I always feel so awkward in front of cameras. Ha, ha I guess that would be the funny part about it. Ah, one of these days. Just maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 21 in... 32 days. Holy shit. Which means in 33 days I will be here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/las%20vegas" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i410.photobucket.com/albums/pp190/FindStuff2/Travel/Las%20Vegas/Fabulous_Las_Vegas_sign.jpg" border="0" alt="las vegas Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I love the band 'The Decemberists', they're so awesome. I mean it, they overflow goblets of awesomeness.  &lt;3 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Hmm, I took your advice, Penny. I took a bath- I lit candles and played Ingrid, A Fine Frenzy, and all sorts of lovely music. It was exactly what I needed. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm running a 10k in two weeks. It has been a LONG time since I've ran one. Ahhh, well, running a few of these is gonna make my half marathon (h.m) SO MUCH better. I mean, if I don't train before my h.m I would be in so much freaking pain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts in fragments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/thoughts" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i194.photobucket.com/albums/z121/AngelicHeaven/Cosmosphere/Woman.jpg" border="0" alt="Sparatic Thoughts Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh, pretty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5961362165137177605?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5961362165137177605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5961362165137177605' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5961362165137177605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5961362165137177605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/success.html' title='Success!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i194.photobucket.com/albums/z121/AngelicHeaven/Cosmosphere/th_Woman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7604646806970442991</id><published>2009-03-07T09:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T10:01:09.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*Crosses Fingers*</title><content type='html'>This is gonna be a crazy morning/afternoon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the annual bowl-a-thon that raises money for the Domestic Violence Program I use to volunteer for. Every year for the past five years my family has been a part of a team that helps raise money for the woman and children in the DV shelters.  This morning my dad and I are going to walk around the neighborhood and ask for last minute donations.  At the same time I'll be informing them about my book drive to send kids in Rwanda books, and they will have a week to donate whatever they find appropriate. They can leave the books (in the bag, of course) on their doorstep next week and I will pick it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to see who will be willing to look through their bookshelves, but I'm also nervous... what if this turns into an epic failure?  AH- it wont. C'mon, how can you say "No." to kids in RWANDA?  Only if you're cold hearted. Unless you genuinely don't have books to donate, then that's cool, I totally understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will GREAT. It will be very successful, and I will receive a massive amount of books. It will be awesome. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/books" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i183.photobucket.com/albums/x45/cali_kay/z134965827.jpg" border="0" alt="books Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7604646806970442991?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7604646806970442991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7604646806970442991' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7604646806970442991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7604646806970442991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/crosses-fingers.html' title='*Crosses Fingers*'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5569820329770717556</id><published>2009-03-06T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T12:37:15.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear ____,</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/mother%20nature" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj217/SquareNothing/Mother_nature.jpg" border="0" alt="Mother Nature Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Momma Nature,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak on behalf of all Washingtonians when I ask if you could please let spring happen. It is very mean to let us have a day of gorgeous sunshine then make it snow the next day. You kill us a little bit everytime you do it.  We had enough snow in December, we get it. We know Global Warming is happeneing and I promise some of us are working hard to protect the beautiful land you created and take care of. So, just be a little nice and keep the sun around. Please?  Thanks. (P.S: I love you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/weight%20lifting" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i191.photobucket.com/albums/z121/jtekl8/drinking/weightlifting.jpg" border="0" alt="weight lifting Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Stacy's Body,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you. You are SO CLOSE! WHY PLATOUE NOW YOU SELFISH JERK!?  Fine, I'll write down everything I eat again.  Deal? Deal. (P.S: I really, really love you anyway.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/math" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i374.photobucket.com/albums/oo183/dogthelazy/findX.gif" border="0" alt="Math Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Math Class,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make this easy for me. That would be GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/complain" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i97.photobucket.com/albums/l240/hermosa4evr/complain.jpg" border="0" alt="Complain Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Whomever It May Concern (coughCoworkescough):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop complaining. Stop making excuses. It is all bullshit and really unnecessary. Shut up please and just DO IT or GET OVER IT. From the bottom of my heart (if you listen to me), thank you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/rainbow" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i709.photobucket.com/albums/ww100/krystle_photos/rainbows.jpg" border="0" alt="double rainbow Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Life,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. I really do. Thanks for all the lessons and letting me see the beauty in you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5569820329770717556?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5569820329770717556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5569820329770717556' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5569820329770717556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5569820329770717556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/dear.html' title='Dear ____,'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i191.photobucket.com/albums/z121/jtekl8/drinking/th_weightlifting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4231904891946380077</id><published>2009-03-05T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T10:12:31.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No, what happened?</title><content type='html'>Damn it, I was doing so well. It's amazing how one thing can change a persons emotions so fast. I know it's because I'm letting it get to me and I'm just unnecessarily dragging myself down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/boxing" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i572.photobucket.com/albums/ss162/superman6296/Boxing1.jpg" border="0" alt="boxing gloves Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch, I'll be over it in aproximately two and a half hours. I just need to go to the gym and beat the shit out of a punching bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the thing... I work every wednesday, and there are Deaf Coffee Nights every wed at my work. I see all my ASL buddies laughing and having a good time.. I'm use to that by now and it's cool. Well, I had a break and I got to go chat with them for a bit. What upset me: my signing SUCKED. I was having so much trouble understanding what they were saying... and I forgot so many signs... I TOOK ASL FOR TWO YEARS! I was the PRESIDENT of the ASL Club. What the fuck? I am so dissapointed. I need to figure something out. I can't forget ASL, I just can't. It's heartbreaknig.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a few other little things, but they're so insignificant... whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, blogging makes me feel better, too. I guess I just needed to write out my dissapointment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also nervous- I have a BIG MOFO test in my Nutrition test tomorrow.... What's great about my teacher is she drops the lowest test grade... so I don't have to do well on this test... but I still want to try.  And I'm calling a few newspapers today to see if they will be interested in doing an article about the book drive my friend and I are organizing.  (We mean business around here.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be fine. I just needed to vent. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4231904891946380077?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4231904891946380077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4231904891946380077' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4231904891946380077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4231904891946380077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/no-what-happened.html' title='No, what happened?'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-6283009227039489243</id><published>2009-03-04T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T11:06:46.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dynamo of Volition</title><content type='html'>My motivation has FINALLY kicked back in!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/books" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/DinasaursGoRawr/Photography/greenwithbooks.jpg" border="0" alt="Books Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm incredibly excited for the new project my volunteer group is working on.  We are helping out with a book drive the HP Alliance is putting on (if you don't know or remember what it is, the link is on this page somewhere on the left)... my best friend and I are organizing it.  During the month we collet as many books as possible and we will be sending them off to a village in Rwanda. The kids there are so eager to learn, hear from people their age (we're sending post cards with the books), and gain knowledge about other cultures.  It's so thrilling. I love what I do. It's also nice that local stores and cafe's are eager to help. They will be putting out boxes and I'm giving them fliers to give to their customers... it's going to be AWESOME! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND I am finally done with community college in TWO WEEKS! I turn 21 in 35 days (which means I'll be in Las Vegas in 36 days! WOOHOO!)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all my excersizing and eating healthy is paying off.  I'm at my halfway point! I have so much more energy and confidence... it's nice.  Ha, ha- I guess signing up for a half marathon will do that to yuh, I can't exactly back out of it!  :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what motivates you? What enourages you to do better?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-6283009227039489243?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/6283009227039489243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=6283009227039489243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6283009227039489243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6283009227039489243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/03/dynamo-of-volition.html' title='The Dynamo of Volition'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/DinasaursGoRawr/Photography/th_greenwithbooks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7294388025642935888</id><published>2009-02-21T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T20:36:13.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Café</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/coffee" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c160/twistedangel420/coffee/coffee.jpg" border="0" alt="Coffee Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love café's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting there with a hot porcelain mug, seeing delicious thick, creamy, dense foam with raw sugar sprinkled on top... mmm, it's so tasty.  Windows let in the bright light of the sun and warms my back.  I'm in my own little world, and I get to observe the people around me. Watching real, everyday people is much more interesting than the ones on television.  What do they do for a living? Did they go to college? Do they have a family? Did they vote? How much love is in their life? Are they happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure hope so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish it was a perfectly normal American thing to just walk up to someone and ask: "So, who are you?"   That should be my next video project. To walk around Seattle and ask countless people that question and see who answers and what they say. Maybe I should change up the questions:  "Who are you?" "Are you happy?" "Why?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/universe" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i82.photobucket.com/albums/j265/kalolinenani/universe/sagittarius.jpg" border="0" alt="sagittarius Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7294388025642935888?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7294388025642935888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7294388025642935888' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7294388025642935888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7294388025642935888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/02/cafe.html' title='Café'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c160/twistedangel420/coffee/th_coffee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7349289320236906433</id><published>2009-02-12T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T16:48:40.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I DID IT! I'M ACCEPTED!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/wsu" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o82/oscararevalo/wsu.gif" border="0" alt="WSU Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED!!!!! OMG OMGOMG OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMOSDAMFDKSFJNAKLFJESALKFHJENWOUASJK.NFM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM SO HAPPY! HAHA!  I was shaking for, like, five minutes after I got the letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* sigh *  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7349289320236906433?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7349289320236906433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7349289320236906433' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7349289320236906433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7349289320236906433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-did-it-im-accepted.html' title='I DID IT! I&apos;M ACCEPTED!!!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2064156641366805548</id><published>2009-02-11T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T09:20:46.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And the sun rises.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/sunrise" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a264/buttmuffin/sunrise.jpg" border="0" alt="flower Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A pony grazing on a brisk morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A baby laughing and being held by their momma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drift wood on a beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dandilions in a meadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/dandilion" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i463.photobucket.com/albums/qq357/skye_mate/myspace%20layouts/wish.jpg" border="0" alt="dandilion Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A swirly twirl of water color paints blended with and without intention.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all have something in common.  What do you see? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see peace. Joy. Calm. Optimism. Wisdom. Love. I aspire to live my life with all these traits; to always find them when I'm at my best, my worst, or when I'm just okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my 100th blog (it feels like I've written many more, ha ha).  So I looked back to my first one ( http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2007/08/change.html )and I'm proud to say I have the same amount of determination, passion and focus as I did then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmm... I'm happy (for so many reasons). :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/sunset%20flower" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i270.photobucket.com/albums/jj90/Kamryn22/flower1.jpg" border="0" alt="sunset flower Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2064156641366805548?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2064156641366805548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2064156641366805548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2064156641366805548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2064156641366805548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-sun-rises.html' title='And the sun rises.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i463.photobucket.com/albums/qq357/skye_mate/myspace%20layouts/th_wish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7189565417234614156</id><published>2009-02-02T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T21:15:59.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks, Plinky.com</title><content type='html'>Some actual randomly interesting questions. I want your answers, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Name three songs you could be convinced to sing at a karaoke bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-RESPECT by Aretha Franklin&lt;br /&gt;-I CAN SHOW YOU THE WORLD from 'Aladdin'&lt;br /&gt;-FOOTLOOSE by Kenny Loggins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;2) Name a bizarre gift you received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my 18th birthday I got a bunch of condoms and other love toys.  &lt;br /&gt;At this point of my life I didn't have a boyfriend. Haha, it was funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Name a book you started reading but never finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many books, but just to name a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robinson Crusoe, The Lord of the Rings, The Historian, a few Jane Austin books, Wise Blood, No Country For Old Men, The Wayfarer Redemption.... There are many books on my list to read and/or finish reading. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;4) Share where you'd fly for the weekend if your best friend had a helicopter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hrm. Depending on how much gas we would have.... either: Alaska, California, Hawaii, New York, London, France, Greece, Austrailia.... yeah, the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes they have dumb questions... and I really could expand on the answers to these... but I'm tired. What about ya'll? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7189565417234614156?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7189565417234614156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7189565417234614156' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7189565417234614156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7189565417234614156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/02/thanks-plinkycom.html' title='Thanks, Plinky.com'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1706880231559489489</id><published>2009-01-28T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T23:11:03.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a MILLION thoughts in my head.</title><content type='html'>Woow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many thins have happened since my last post that I don't know where to start.  &lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll start with the sad news, then end with random thoughts and some good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there is no way to sugar coat this so I'll just say it:  the sad news is that a good friend of my moms committed suicide last sunday. He was a funny/cool guy but had a looooooot of extremely difficult things going on in his life.... so he decided he couldn't handle it. I've met this man quite a few times and it's something I wouldn't think he would do. I've never seen my mom like this, so it's been hard. But she just needs a lot of love right now.  &lt;br /&gt;Ahh, it's so sad. Because I know what it's like to be that depressed. When I was 15 I was suicidal myself, but I recognized I needed help, and I found the strength to ask for it and get better. Even though life can be shitty, sunshine can always appear, it's just when a person decides to see it.  That should never be considered an option. I hate to speak ill of the dead *rip*, but it's a selfish and cowardly act to commit. He has children... OH, just imagine the pain! :'-(  Sad, sad, sad.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----moving on.----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work I haD a ridiculously stUpid manager (yes, I did capitalize those letters on purpose). (Penny, you'll get this:  She used the P-card to do her fucking Christmas shopping. She bought a PS3 on it. WHAAAAT!  And she would change our hours to non-coverage, which means a lot of us were gypped on tips. AHHH!!!!!)  We would get angry calls from credit companies all the time about it.  FINALLY she got FIRED today! AHHAHAHAAHAH!!! FINALLY FINALLY! I'm SOOO glad I didn't quit/transfer. I wanted to, but then it would of been exactly what I did last time, so I decided to stay and see if things got better.  Hopefully our next manager will be AWESOME! I hope hope hope!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot what my random thoughts were.......... hm...... yeah, totally forgot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! REMEMBERED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I found this site called "pinky prompts" or something like that, and it pretty much gives you topics to write about in blogs.  One of the questions is: "What would you do if you were awarded $1,000?"  And I read some of the answers, and they made me want to punch someone in the face. Most people responded with materialistic shit like: "I would buy and iPhone." "I would buy a hot dress for Valentine's Day." (Which is a BULLSHIT holiday!)  "I would buy a bunch of shoes!"  YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME PEOPLE?! WTF?  You know what I would do with that money? Put it toward me going to volunteer in Africa. Not only would I be helping people, but I would get to do something I've wanted to do for a very, very long time.  Or I would put it toward my college fund.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoes. You gotta be shittin' me. Fuck shoes. Kids in Africa need shoes more than a "I love guicci and prada!" whore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, I needed to do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another question that I thought was cute is:  Describe your superhero self. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when I was in Elementary School I made an entire series about me being a super hero. I was cleverly named, "Super Stacy!" I wore a superman logo shirt, except purple instead of red (my favorite color). I could pretty much do what superman can do.. except be invincible (including kryptonite).  But I would also want to have the ability to shoot spaghetti out of my fingertips. And move objects with my eyes. And turn invisible.  I would totally wear spandex. In fact, I want to look like the guy on the LEFT, but with a Superman logo:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SYFV-lYA8GI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ebf5eKtRGVA/s1600-h/TheSpandexCrew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SYFV-lYA8GI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ebf5eKtRGVA/s320/TheSpandexCrew.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296609170437501026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YESSSSSSSSS. RAINBOW SPANDEX. OH SO HOT. &lt;br /&gt;HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, priceless picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, that's all for today. And please enjoy my random twitter updates in the top right corner of my page. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1706880231559489489?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1706880231559489489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1706880231559489489' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1706880231559489489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1706880231559489489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/01/million-thoughts-in-my-head.html' title='a MILLION thoughts in my head.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SYFV-lYA8GI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ebf5eKtRGVA/s72-c/TheSpandexCrew.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4897772069509435539</id><published>2009-01-19T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:38:11.222-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one check off the list</title><content type='html'>I officially applied to the university of my choice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one I've been wanting to go to since I was a freshman in high school, and the only one I will be applying to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm going to be accepted (especially since I'm a transfer student).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My excitement is overwhelming... but I'm still nervous. Ha, ha! Who knows how long it will take for me to get that&lt;br /&gt;letter that will tell me whether I'm in or out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I'm going to be twitching until that day comes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please be accepted. PLEASE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I will. (please)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4897772069509435539?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4897772069509435539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4897772069509435539' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4897772069509435539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4897772069509435539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-check-off-list.html' title='one check off the list'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2999857749414211499</id><published>2009-01-10T19:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T22:46:56.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intention</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SWmVyMQDWiI/AAAAAAAAAFo/SgczfEyZzc0/s1600-h/DSC00009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SWmVyMQDWiI/AAAAAAAAAFo/SgczfEyZzc0/s320/DSC00009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289923926837910050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you saw, I am a New Year Resolution person. I listed things that are... I don't want to say typical or commercial- but those are the best words I have right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to have a resolution that has more to do with improving myself- my soul, spirituality, me as a whole being.  I've been pondering what would be a great thing to work on. Then- AHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to work at &lt;i&gt; taking no offense&lt;/i&gt;.  Yes, I am a fairly calm person, but there are random little things that will just make me explode. Therefore I will work on not being offended. Because being offended only weakens me, and it creates destructive energy. Ah! I don't want that kind of energy around me! So, I'm going to use my energy to turn it around so I can stay peaceful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I took that picture.   :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2999857749414211499?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2999857749414211499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2999857749414211499' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2999857749414211499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2999857749414211499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/01/intention.html' title='Intention'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SWmVyMQDWiI/AAAAAAAAAFo/SgczfEyZzc0/s72-c/DSC00009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5241752874951150066</id><published>2009-01-03T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T19:13:04.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love the smell of new years</title><content type='html'>So free, fresh and exciting! Again I get to make my new years resolution(s), and maybe this year they will actually happen!  Ha, ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First and foremost, the same, and most important, resolution I have is to be healthier. Since I have a lot to look forward to this year (Vegas, my Aunts wedding which I'm a bridesmaid in, San Fran and going to Washington State University) Oh yeah, and I'm running a half marathon in June, so I kind of HAVE to lose weigh and run, run, RUN!!!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love golf, and I should play it more. At least go to the driving range once a month with my Dad. Not only will I keep working on my swing, but it will be good quality time with Daddy.  &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduate BCC in March and get officially accepted into WSU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it. I'm happy and proud with them :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5241752874951150066?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5241752874951150066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5241752874951150066' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5241752874951150066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5241752874951150066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-love-smell-of-new-years.html' title='I love the smell of new years'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-882640685041770703</id><published>2008-12-25T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T09:49:14.529-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All The Way!!</title><content type='html'>MERRY CHRISTMAS! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/merry%20christmas" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd225/whittle-kittlesx3/Merry_Christmas.jpg" border="0" alt="merry christmas Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-882640685041770703?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/882640685041770703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=882640685041770703' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/882640685041770703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/882640685041770703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/12/jingle-bells-jingle-bells-jingle-all.html' title='Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All The Way!!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-250248228958030834</id><published>2008-12-22T14:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:43:08.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Déjà vu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/surreal" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i533.photobucket.com/albums/ee334/littlexxlili/surreal-1.jpg" border="0" alt="surreal Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has this ever happened to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three times I had a dream that was very realistic and detailed. All three times, the 'dream' came true the next day.  Two of the times had to do with the same guy... this guy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still speechless, because I had the third dream last night, and it came true this morning... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never talked about him in my blogs before... because my friendship with him was a good four or five years ago. We liked each other, and should of dated, but then he broke my heart.  We still talk every so often, but this morning was different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sent me a message four years overdue. Apologizing for what he did, that he misses me, and wants to see me when he comes home (like all my other guy friends, he's a Marine. Go figure.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel relieved. Finally, closure on something. CLOSURE! A weight lifted out of my chest. Now I KNOW. I know what was going through his mind... I know the truth. My God, I needed that.  I needed it so bad.  I mean, it wasn't on the front of my brain all the time, I pretty much forgave him YEARS ago.  Moved on... but it is such a nice thing (to know the truth).  I'm relived, and happy. Now our friendship can be stronger, and maybe get to know each other again. I'm expecting no romance from this, I'm taking it as it is:  he is sorry for hurting me, and he wanted that off his chest after such a long time.  He wants to be friends with me again.  I appreciate that, and I'm opening my arms to him. I missed him, too.  He's a good guy, and I'm glad it's off his chest... and mine as well. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-250248228958030834?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/250248228958030834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=250248228958030834' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/250248228958030834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/250248228958030834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/12/dj-vu.html' title='Déjà vu'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1439302669823369038</id><published>2008-12-16T23:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:55:59.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How did I remember this? No clue.</title><content type='html'>Last September I posted a blog with a list of goals I wanted to accomplish from then to now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-semester-new-set-of-goals.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; What I want to be able to say in December:&lt;br /&gt;"I got A's in my classes, I registered a TON of students to vote, informed people on the importance of recycling and other aspects of 'going green' (and cleaned up some parks), lost weight in time for the holidays, and kept up with my ASL!"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a B in English 201 (research paper), B+ in Bio Lab (shocking)  and a C in Math (thank goodness). Judging by how incredibly DIFFICULT these classes ended up being- I am pretty damn proud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I worked for the Obama campaign, I certainly registered a lot of people to vote. *sweeet* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of the Going Green project, we worked on Domestic Violence instead, and so far so good. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have done an OKAY job keeping up with my ASL, I could of done better. But I went to lunch with my ex-ASL teacher, and I kept up, so that's great. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been losing weight! WOO HOO! And I signed up to do a half marathon in JUNE, so I HAVE to do it, right?! I have a long way to go, but I can do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I did pretty good, huh?  :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between now and April (specifically before my birthday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be able to say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I passed and graduated from Community College, I'm going to Las Vegas looking hot, and I'm ready to run the half marathon in June."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. And I'll say just that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1439302669823369038?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1439302669823369038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1439302669823369038' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1439302669823369038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1439302669823369038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-did-i-remember-this-no-clue.html' title='How did I remember this? No clue.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5825321159954543280</id><published>2008-12-14T23:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T23:41:02.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hAhaaAahHahHAHha!</title><content type='html'>I just gotta say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the pictures from my previous post are incredible. HAHA! Omg, so great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just stare at the pictures for a second. and laugh. laugh hard. HAHA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5825321159954543280?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5825321159954543280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5825321159954543280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5825321159954543280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5825321159954543280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/12/hahaaaahhahhahha.html' title='hAhaaAahHahHAHha!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-6972003620253650409</id><published>2008-12-11T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:15:30.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'>* Wink *</title><content type='html'>Caution:  The most pointless rant ever. You don't even have to waste your time reading it. Really.  But it's still funny... well, I think it's funny. ;) HAHA! WINK! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did winking at people began?  Seriously. What made someone want to blink only one eye as a way to flirt, or be silly, a "you get me" or whatever reason you have for winking when you do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone winks for some reason. But I think it's gross when people wink when being flirty. I don't know why, but I think "scumbag".  If you wink, I'm sorry. It's something people can't control. I bet a million bucks there will be a pill someone could take if they are an obsessive winker in the next five years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point: If you're flirting- Do NOT wink. Just don't. I know you want to, but don't do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons why not to: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/wink" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i93.photobucket.com/albums/l52/akascully/wink.jpg" border="0" alt="wink Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/wink" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i35.photobucket.com/albums/d165/TrikKBorgnine/IMG_0006.jpg" border="0" alt="Wink Wink Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/wink" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i368.photobucket.com/albums/oo125/crabisaword/yabu/yabu.gif" border="0" alt="wink Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just looks so awkward. Meh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like you have stink eye or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Anyway.... I'm done with finals *YAAAAAAY!!!!*  So I'm free for the next three weeks. I am SO happy.  YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3 ya'll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;-)  (jk)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-6972003620253650409?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/6972003620253650409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=6972003620253650409' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6972003620253650409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6972003620253650409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/12/wink.html' title='* Wink *'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i368.photobucket.com/albums/oo125/crabisaword/yabu/th_yabu.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7679196468132692629</id><published>2008-12-01T15:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T15:31:13.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Round and Round We Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/merry%20go%20round" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i414.photobucket.com/albums/pp224/snohopanthers9/merry-go-round.jpg" border="0" alt="merry go round Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like sitting there, and spinning 'round and 'round until my head spins, my toes are numb, my eyes water, my arms are weightless, and suddenly I find myself on the peddle rocks with bruises on the right side of my body. Maybe then I will get a sense of enlightenment and find all the answers to my questions. Just maybe I'll have a flash forward and know what will happen to me, so I can know which path to take. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;ROAD LESS TRAVELED&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a yellow wood&lt;br /&gt;And sorry I could not travel both&lt;br /&gt;And be one traveler, long I stood&lt;br /&gt;And looked down one as far as I could&lt;br /&gt;To where it bent in the undergrowth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then took the other as just as fair&lt;br /&gt;And having perhaps the better claim&lt;br /&gt;Because it was grassy and wanted wear&lt;br /&gt;Though as for that, the passing there&lt;br /&gt;Had worn them really about the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And both that morning equally lay&lt;br /&gt;In leaves no step had trodden black&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I kept the first for another day!&lt;br /&gt;Yet, knowing how way leads onto way&lt;br /&gt;I doubted if I should ever come back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be telling this with a sigh&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere ages and ages hence&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a wood&lt;br /&gt;And I took the one less traveled by&lt;br /&gt;And that has made all the difference&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert Frost&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some things that I know I'm going to do. I know I will go to a University next fall. I know when and what events will happen on certain days. But what about the in between? How will I go about these things? The choices I have to make in between... what should I choose?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to figure out why I am unhappy. Then I need to figure out what I'm going to do to about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same things keep repeating itself because I continuously put them off. I can not allow myself to do that anymore. It is of the most importance that I commit to myself and make the changes I know I need to make. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck, why can't doing it be easier than saying it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7679196468132692629?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7679196468132692629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7679196468132692629' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7679196468132692629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7679196468132692629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/12/round-and-round-we-go.html' title='Round and Round We Go'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1532338748510603139</id><published>2008-11-27T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T09:59:37.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tukey day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/thanksgiving" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk127/bnteasley/Thanksgiving/thanksgiving.gif" border="0" alt="Thanksgiving 2 Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a day to reflect on what we are grateful for.  There are so many people and things that there is no way that I can list them all. Here is what's on the top of my head:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My passionate Mommy &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad, who is always so proud of my brother and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha, my incredible, creative Brother. He's going to be a famous writer one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friends (who are like sisters to me) KayKay and Mia. No matter what, they will always be there for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The home that I am so fortunate to live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job at Starbucks- even though it frustrates me sometimes, it's still a good job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other friends and aquaintences, because I surround myself with funny and bright people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The determination I have to help people who need it most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My adorable cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How one of my Aunts asked me to be a Bridesmaid in her wedding in August. I still can't believe it, it's such an honor :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie the Wonder Dog! (the cutest all black malti-poo you could ever meet. so funny) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SS7f2VodPoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/SvKlCbQaDFU/s1600-h/eddie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SS7f2VodPoI/AAAAAAAAAEU/SvKlCbQaDFU/s320/eddie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273398338310192770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope all of you have a lovely Thanksgiving! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1532338748510603139?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1532338748510603139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1532338748510603139' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1532338748510603139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1532338748510603139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/11/tukey-day.html' title='tukey day!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk127/bnteasley/Thanksgiving/th_thanksgiving.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5282622751621419773</id><published>2008-11-21T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T14:03:09.742-08:00</updated><title type='text'>here, too!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/random" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n131/fuselover19/random.jpg" border="0" alt="random Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew tagging happened on myspace and facebook- but now surveys have reached the blogsphere. oh dear. lol. fiiine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen Random Things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I have many mystical powers. like breathing fire and shooting spaghetti out of my finger tips *props to anyone who gets it* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) i want to live in Italy, London, and New York for at least six months each and travel all over europe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) when i was a kid, my parents told me to never pick wild mushrooms because they were poisonous like Snow White's apple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) while driving on the freeway i always keep the windows rolled up because if they're open i'm afriad of a rock flying in my car and blinding me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) i love love in all forms.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) i consider myself to be very optimistic and whimsical. 70% of my time i'm in another world (a daydream state). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) i think filling these things out is hard to do.  do i want to be funny? slightly serious? or completely make shit up? or all of the above? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) if i would marry any famous singer (that's single..) it would probably be Jason Mraz. why? from watching interviews he seems to be easy to talk to, he's hilarious, adorable, incredibly artistic, i love his music, and so many other things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) i boxed for three years (mainly sparring, i didn't compete) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) i'm sensitive to peoples moods/auras/body language.  even if they're good at hiding emotions, i know they're lying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) i have at least one friend in almost every state. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) when i was 5 i really wanted to be a llama when i grew up, then i realized that was impossible...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) then i decided to be a diva until (years later) i discovered i am a terrible singer, and somehow acting got lost... even though i loved it :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) my life mission (and what i believe my reason for existing) is to help as many people as humanly possible by doing WHATEVER i can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) no matter how brief, i DREAM to meet the woman who (pretty much) taught me how to read and (literally) saved my life:&lt;br /&gt; JK Rowling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PennyLane &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Mari &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5282622751621419773?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5282622751621419773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5282622751621419773' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5282622751621419773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5282622751621419773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/11/here-too.html' title='here, too!?!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8547489901266503371</id><published>2008-11-15T22:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T22:16:30.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do it.</title><content type='html'>Just watch. Listen. He says it so well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cVUecPhQPqY&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cVUecPhQPqY&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8547489901266503371?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8547489901266503371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8547489901266503371' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8547489901266503371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8547489901266503371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/11/do-it.html' title='Do it.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4753410876009426088</id><published>2008-11-05T17:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T14:09:01.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So proud of Obama- but Cali, WHAT HAPPENED?!</title><content type='html'>----&lt;br /&gt;FIRST: If this offends you, I'm sorry but it's true. And it's my blog. *loves*&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was glowing. High fives were giving out to anybody all day. Finally, I feel so proud for this country. I'm excited to have such a great man run this country, and I have faith that with our help he will help bring light back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I received very, very sad news.  California's proposition 8 passed. Gay marriage is no longer allowed. I'm sorry, but that is SO FRICKIN WRONG!  AH! SO WRONG. I am disappointed.  Now it's only Wisconsin, and I hope hope HOPE they keep it intact.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/gay%20marriage" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x227/water_bucket_45/supportlove-1.jpg" border="0" alt="gay marriage Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who the hell does the government think they are to ban love? It's discrimination. Who the fuck are they to judge how someone should love? To be married is such a privilege and honor that shouldn't be banned from anybody. &lt;i&gt;((Oh, and let me point out, who has the high divorce rate we (straight people) do.))&lt;/i&gt; All the homosexuals I know (and I know a lot) get married because they are in love. True love. If I were gay and in love with my partner, I would want to marry her to show my devotion. This is AMERICA for goodness sakes! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ELLEN DEGENEROUS! AH! SO SAD! Her and Porsha &lt;i&gt;just&lt;/i&gt; got married. I'm going to cry during her show tomorrow, it's going to be so sad... I can't believe it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/ellen%20married" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg146/erinisawesome_2008/ellen-degeneres-married.jpg" border="0" alt="Hooray! Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so wrong. But it's only for now. One day it will be allowed. That dream will come true. We just have to wait a little longer... :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/love" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i524.photobucket.com/albums/cc323/itziri650/lOVE_/love.jpg" border="0" alt="lOVE_ Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. Move ahead. Do whatever you can to help this country. Without us, it's nothing. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/hope" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i245.photobucket.com/albums/gg41/diznee39/hope.jpg" border="0" alt="hope Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4753410876009426088?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4753410876009426088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4753410876009426088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4753410876009426088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4753410876009426088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-proud-of-obama-but-cali-what.html' title='So proud of Obama- but Cali, WHAT HAPPENED?!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i524.photobucket.com/albums/cc323/itziri650/lOVE_/th_love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-6250185056161855675</id><published>2008-11-04T20:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T20:43:43.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.</title><content type='html'>John McCain gave a beautiful speech, did he not?  As I man I greatly respect him- he is a hero. It was a great race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let me tell you, I cried my eyes out when California turned blue. YES. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what happened, Americans never give up. No matter what, we still have a lot of difficulties to face. We just have to come together and work together and help President Barack Obama as much as we can. It is our civic duty to serve this country however we can. For me- it's helping people in need. Volunteering. Serving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Obama, and I have all my heart in helping him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you didn't vote for him, have the grace to do whatever you can to help this country. We are still Americans, and we still have the same dream: a better America. What will make it possible is being together. We can do it. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT'S FINALLY OVER! DANCE AWAY! CELEBRATE! WOOHOO! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/peace" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i350.photobucket.com/albums/q421/selenacaudillo_2008/peace.jpg" border="0" alt="PEACE Pictures, Images and Photos"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/obama" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb137/nannyniggynan/Obama/ObaMa.jpg" border="0" alt="obama Pictures, Images and Photos"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-6250185056161855675?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/6250185056161855675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=6250185056161855675' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6250185056161855675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6250185056161855675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/11/wonderful-absolutely-wonderful.html' title='Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb137/nannyniggynan/Obama/th_ObaMa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2647247691921746877</id><published>2008-10-16T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T22:17:24.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caution: angry rant about people that really need to get over themselves and be considerate about ___</title><content type='html'>What the fuck did I ever do to them? I mean really. I have ALWAYS been super friendly and thoughtful to these two guys. AHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right, so these two guys I use to work with (years ago) are cool. They are nice people, and have their own lives. I'll give them credit that they did meet me when I was enduring some of the worst ten months of my life. I mean, how could you really like someone if during the first 10 months they knew you you were dramatic about everything and cried a lot? I wouldn't like them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I did get medicated and have been sane and sweet (to them) ever since. They are polite when I say hi, so this is what ticked me off:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working (they know I work at this certain Starbucks), they walk right on by without looking to say hi. They sit at a table where I saw them look at me, but still didn't say hi even though I was in mid-wave. I shrugged it off, maybe they were just staring at empty space and not me, right?  So I make them hot chocolate (free drinks- see how nice i am?) and as i walk over, i see one of them whisper to the other, and they look the other way like i would disappear if they made eye contact with me. ARE WE FUCKING FIVE YEARS OLD PEOPLE? How rude? I was still in my apron, like I was going to stay and chat and cry my eyes out. w.t.f? I ask if life is good, and specific questions about their life like I'm actually genuinely interested. They ask nothing about me, nor did I give information about myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck is this rudeness? I wanted to punch them in the face, but I don't think that would of helped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, they are not significant in my life, so I'm going to shrug it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I know you all understand how writing is therapeutic (why we have blogs), so I wanted to vent my anger. Fucking a, so rude. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/red+rose+bleeding" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg160/JACUSMC/bleeding_red_rose1_by_UrDisasterous.jpg" border="0" alt="red rose bleeding Pictures, Images and Photos"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*deep breath*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has not been my month. At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*screams*&lt;br /&gt;*another deep breath*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, I'll be fine. Like everything in life: I'll get through it, especially since I've been through much worse.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2647247691921746877?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2647247691921746877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2647247691921746877' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2647247691921746877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2647247691921746877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/10/caution-angry-rant-about-people-that.html' title='Caution: angry rant about people that really need to get over themselves and be considerate about ___'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-6315521915185050634</id><published>2008-10-09T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T20:53:17.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>l-o-c-k-d-o-w-n</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/tree" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i178.photobucket.com/albums/w277/stephlaw84/tree.jpg" border="0" alt="B&amp;amp;amp;W tree Pictures, Images and Photos"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is a  whirlwind&lt;br /&gt; so much to consider to discuss to debate to contradict &lt;br /&gt;she's right all it will do is benefit my desire to be accountable to someone else and not myself &lt;br /&gt;but i want it &lt;br /&gt;i feel like i need it ah oh why cant i just convince myself? this battle is between me and what's in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the reflection is tellin me&lt;br /&gt;tellin me&lt;br /&gt;tellin me&lt;br /&gt;to face it&lt;br /&gt;own up to it&lt;br /&gt;admit it&lt;br /&gt;discover it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let the shit go&lt;br /&gt;let it go&lt;br /&gt;just let it go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i told him this, he promised that&lt;br /&gt;AH IT'S BULLSHIT &lt;br /&gt;i see it, but i want to be blind to it&lt;br /&gt;damn it&lt;br /&gt;i dont need him.&lt;br /&gt;i need myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being my own boss is the hardest thing to do. &lt;br /&gt;i messed up, it's my fault. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can also correct this wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... It takes a lot of effort. I just gotta stop saying "'til tomorrow." it has to happen today. it has to happen now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah,  so close. so close.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;“You may never know what results come of your action, but if you do nothing there will be no result” Gandhi &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-6315521915185050634?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/6315521915185050634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=6315521915185050634' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6315521915185050634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/6315521915185050634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/10/l-o-c-k-d-o-w-n.html' title='l-o-c-k-d-o-w-n'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5281744476188284175</id><published>2008-09-30T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T00:24:27.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School is being a slut</title><content type='html'>and taking every minute of my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that I'm so close to graduating community college with a transfer degree (FINALLY), I'm working my booty off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;luckily, I REALLY like my classes. One is an environmental/botany lab science and english combination class, and then there is math (intermediate algebra). math is really easy so far (I'm normally TERRIBLE at math), but my combo class is SO interesting. And my teachers are hard core bohemians. They harvest their OWN HONEY. Ah, they are so cool. Love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is great, school is interesting, friends are lovely, ah, life is good! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5281744476188284175?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5281744476188284175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5281744476188284175' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5281744476188284175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5281744476188284175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/school-is-being-slut.html' title='School is being a slut'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5397180734452464313</id><published>2008-09-20T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T21:45:32.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it was so great to hear his voice</title><content type='html'>I have many friends in the military. All of whom have been to Iraq.  Even though I'm more use to the idea- it's still terrifying. I don't know what they're doing over there, who knows what can happen to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call from a good friend, Tim, and he just got back to the USA the other day from Iraq. He is still his hilarious, high spirited self. I feel so relieved. He is safe. I can't wait to see him... whenever that's going to be. Instead of coming home to Washington for his leave he is going to California with his Marine girlfriend (both intelligence). And that's fine, his family moved down there... It isn't that selfish of me to want to see him. Even for an hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have a friend in the military, then I know you understand. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5397180734452464313?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5397180734452464313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5397180734452464313' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5397180734452464313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5397180734452464313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-was-so-great-to-hear-his-voice.html' title='it was so great to hear his voice'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1292035917013478310</id><published>2008-09-18T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T23:37:07.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new semester, a new set of goals</title><content type='html'>I graduate from community college in six months, then next September my journey to a four year college will begin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goals (in every aspect of life) in the next three months (one semester):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Study hard, get A's and B's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Pass out voting registration forms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-With my best friend, start our 'Go Green' campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Improve my health (take yoga?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short list, but each come with a lot of time, and are huge responsibilities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, and help the new American Sign Language club officers... but that's not a big thing. *dusts off shoulders* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll remember this post in December and report how I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to be able to say in December:&lt;br /&gt;"I got A's in my classes, I registered a TON of students to vote, informed people on the importance of recycling and other aspects of 'going green' (and cleaned up some parks), lost weight in time for the holidays, and kept up with my ASL!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll do it, damnit- I will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1292035917013478310?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1292035917013478310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1292035917013478310' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1292035917013478310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1292035917013478310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-semester-new-set-of-goals.html' title='A new semester, a new set of goals'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4179249192423402811</id><published>2008-09-18T22:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T22:59:47.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dumb links:</title><content type='html'>They didn't work in my last post (and for some reason, maybe it's too long, but I can't go edit the whole thing) so here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John McCain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a&gt;www.johnmccain.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barack Obama:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a&gt;www.barackobama.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's very important to be informed about BOTH candidates. It helps make your decision an informative and smart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VOTE VOTE VOTE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4179249192423402811?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4179249192423402811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4179249192423402811' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4179249192423402811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4179249192423402811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/dumb-links.html' title='dumb links:'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-7623741950883683686</id><published>2008-09-14T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T22:53:00.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want change. I need hope.</title><content type='html'>July 4th, 1776 the Declaration of Independence was signed, giving our nation freedom from Britain and creating Democracy. America gave it's people the gift to pursue happiness, life, safety, liberty, and hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I turned 18, I didn't understand politics, nor did I care. I didn't understand that there are more ways to serve my country besides join the military. The explanation of how I took interest in politics is a totally different story, and I'll save it for another day. But until I did take an interest, I never really had strong opinions. I 'whateverd' or 'sured' everything. Since I have informed myself about this country, and my opinions are strong. I am still a good listener, and unless the person I am trying to have a interesting discussion with turns defensive (or ridiculous), then I will too. Otherwise, I'm polite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voting this year is absolutely critical. If you are over 18 and have not registered, please do so. Please vote. If you think your opinion doesn't matter- it does. Now more than ever. It is CRUCIAL you understand this. &lt;br /&gt;If you hate the way our country is now, if you understand a change is needed. Vote on November 4th. VOTE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Info on McCain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.johnmccain.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Info on Obama:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.barackobama.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;...we have faced far more difficult challenges. And each time we have emerged stronger, more united, and more prosperous than the last. It is faith in the American ideal that carries us through, as well as the belief that was voiced by Franklin Roosevelt all those years ago this week: "Failure is not an American habit; and in the strength of great hope we must all shoulder our common load." That is the strength and the hope we seek both today - and in all the days and months to come.&lt;/blockquote&gt; Senator Barack Obama&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama is my homeboy. &lt;br /&gt;(PS: He's Black and Christian. Even though he's not Muslim, not all Muslims are terrorists.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(PSS: Ha, ha- this post was going to be SO much longer and MUCH more detailed, but my fingers are tired.)  :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~ Er, DISCLAIMER: ~*~&lt;br /&gt;I hope none of this sounds rude, but: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time in my blogging history, I'm asking for you guys to &lt;b&gt;please not comment on my blog- do not.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I know and understand that people believe what they want to believe, and are voting for who they're voting for, etc... I would just prefer not to read something that will offend me in my own blog. I'm very sorry if I commented in any of your blogs and  'attacked' you, if anything- I was offended. If I &lt;i&gt;have&lt;/i&gt; offended you for any reason, I'm sorry. I'm hot headed and I know that isn't much of an excuse. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway- my blog, my opinions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for reading. If I can someone to think about how much power they have in their decision and do to research on both candidates (they both have ups and downs), and actually vote. That is major. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha, for credibility, I guess- I am active in my community. I'm one of those people on the street that hand out registration forms, I've informed many people on both candidates (ups and downs to BOTH), and I've held quite a few mini-fundraisers for good causes...  I'm a go-getter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've said enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, thanks for reading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With much love (and my usual scattered thoughts),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-7623741950883683686?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/7623741950883683686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=7623741950883683686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7623741950883683686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/7623741950883683686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-want-change-i-need-hope.html' title='I want change. I need hope.'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5832563158063059433</id><published>2008-09-02T00:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T00:29:09.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>something you cant do without drinking at least one beer</title><content type='html'>and that is watch 'Camp Rock'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/camp%20rock%20poster/radha531369/Camp_Rock_Soundtrack.jpg?o=4" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i294.photobucket.com/albums/mm86/radha531369/Camp_Rock_Soundtrack.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my best friends sisters LOVE/L.O.V.E/&lt;3 the Jonas Brothers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/jonas%20brothers/tf_b8/jonas.jpg?o=4" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f281/tf_b8/jonas.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me laugh because it was my 'Nsync equivalentt... but wow. That was the most ridiculously horrible movie I have ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spice World was better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/spice%20world/oobercool12/spice_world.jpg?o=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb19/oobercool12/spice_world.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank gosh Kayla's step dad doesnt care if we drink his beer. Because i wouldnt of made it through the movie without it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, making fun of it was the best part of watching it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So- why did I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of curiosity. And boredom. And ok ok- I was actually interested in seeing what Kayla's sisters were going crazy over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha, ha- wow. It was just so bad. I'm still laughing. I will never stop making fun of this movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA- THEY ARE APPARENTLY MAKING A SECOND ONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;omg, i cant wait to see how bad this next one will be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, what a great night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5832563158063059433?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5832563158063059433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5832563158063059433' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5832563158063059433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5832563158063059433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/09/something-you-cant-do-without-drinking.html' title='something you cant do without drinking at least one beer'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-4663238199130609970</id><published>2008-08-28T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T22:57:54.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the coyotes sing in the park</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Listen carefully to you inner thoughts, no matter how small or insignificant you may judge them to be. Those tenacious thoughts that just won't go away should be viewed by you as intention talking to you, saying, "You signed up to express your unique brilliance, so why do you keep ignoring it?" - Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, &lt;u&gt;The Power of Intention&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/peace%20colors/runaway08/colors.jpg?o=9" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i37.photobucket.com/albums/e82/runaway08/colors.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of late, I'm having more and more reasons to trust my intuition. When I really sit and meditate and focus on how I really feel and be real/authentic when situations, I tend to be right. I'm not talking about basic things like: "Am I really going to clean my room today?" or "Really- do I need to go running?" Please, if I say no to either of those it's because I'm lazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I'm very optimistic about most things- usually I go with what my gut feeling says. Even though I was interested in how this particular date would go... because he is a very funny guy, and I do like talking to him... but, in my gut I knew that we wouldn't mesh. But for a different reason.  In a way, it's pretty funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick overview of what happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met at the restaurant, sat down and started talking. He asked how old I was and I told him. He made this funny face, so I asked him how old he was... Let's just say he thought I was older and I thought he was younger. And we both agreed to be friends. Right off the bat. Ha, ha. Luckily it wasn't awkward. We still laughed and ate dinner and he still paid for me (score!). So it was great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For fun, I have a challenge for you (well, depending on who you are this could be a challenge). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do a random act of kindness. Such as: hold/open the door for someone, give a homeless person a few bucks, talk to an old man and ask him about his life (they seem to love that), buy the person behind you a cup of coffee (or if you work with coffee, give a customer a free drink), tell your friends/family/cowokers how much you appreciate them. &lt;br /&gt;Just do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who like to read: I just finished reading one of my favorite books for the third time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Perks of Being A Wallflower" by Stephen Chbosky &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole book is in a series of letters by a kid going through his Freshmen year of high school. He is writing these letters to an anonymous girl.  It's a coming-of-age-tale in such a different form. It's so much more intimate than reading a diary entry. It's just incredible. Go check it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/the%20perks%20of%20being%20a%20wallflower/Brendadorame/Perks%20of%20Being%20A%20Wallflower/th01AwcAX1m80igAAAADAAAAAAAAAAA.png?o=92" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h124/Brendadorame/Perks%20of%20Being%20A%20Wallflower/th01AwcAX1m80igAAAADAAAAAAAAAAA.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; -&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/the%20perks%20of%20being%20a%20wallflower/holicrombie23/theperksofbeingawallflower.jpg?o=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q5/holicrombie23/theperksofbeingawallflower.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/the%20perks%20of%20being%20a%20wallflower/melissax3_03/perks.jpg?o=10" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i303.photobucket.com/albums/nn148/melissax3_03/perks.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a very quick read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you won't be able to put it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it, and love it. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-4663238199130609970?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/4663238199130609970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=4663238199130609970' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4663238199130609970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/4663238199130609970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/coyotes-sing-in-park.html' title='the coyotes sing in the park'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i63.photobucket.com/albums/h124/Brendadorame/Perks%20of%20Being%20A%20Wallflower/th_th01AwcAX1m80igAAAADAAAAAAAAAAA.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8337993786200145412</id><published>2008-08-25T00:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T11:08:53.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what just happened?</title><content type='html'>no really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i... what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm excited, but have no idea what to think at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's travel back to three months ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my break at lunch, sitting in the lobby. My earphones are on, eating, and looking at a magazine. Clearly enjoying my lunch. Especially since I wasn't having the best day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some guy kinda walks into my peripheral and stands there. I look up and see a customer that's come in once or twice. I remember his name because it's unique and cool. I take out an earphone and say 'Hi.' He says "Hi." and proceeds to sit in the empty chair in front of me. Asks me how I am and somehow we get on the topic of school and what I'm studying. Turns out he works in the tv business, and asks me for my email because he knows someone who needs an intern. Cool, why not? I give him my email. Whatever. I looked at it as a nice guy just trying to help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He emails me the contact info, then proceeds to ask me out. I say no (this was after a catastrophe I had with another guy) because I'm really busy. Which is true, I technically have three jobs, then I'll be starting school again soon. My god. The last thing I need is to try to put a relationship in the mix. F-that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to now, three months later. Since we've emailed once or twice. He hasn't come into my work. Whatever, no big deal, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were online at the same time today (well, last night, technically) and he started to chat with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ended up being hilarious and kept slyly hitting on me the whole time, but I thought I avoided them well by turning what he said around and making jokes out of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next part is what hit me in so many great, and not great, ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called bullshit on everything I said.&lt;br /&gt;Everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't want to date because I was busy" (true), "I have emotional baggage and have trust issues" (true), and that it was "none of his business" (true).  He took none of it. Just kept laughing and saying that I was SO FULL OF IT. &lt;br /&gt;I was so bewildered, angry, and impressed.  No one. No. One. Has called me out like that before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continued to explain how he knew I was full of it, and that he &lt;i&gt;knows&lt;/i&gt; my baggage- and explained his. Then he said the right thing: "I don't want anything serious. I just want to go on a nice dinner. I didn't ask you to be my girlfriend. Just dinner. That's it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me fifteen minutes to respond to that.  On one hand, I didn't trust that at all. My experience hasn't been the best. But I also want to trust him. So, fuck it, he's funny, I enjoy talking to him- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, in quote: "Well, when you put it like that... Sure, I can do dinner."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA, oh he laughed. But was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so nervous, and excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm skeptical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8337993786200145412?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8337993786200145412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8337993786200145412' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8337993786200145412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8337993786200145412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-just-happened.html' title='what just happened?'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3892781021304379786</id><published>2008-08-20T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T22:27:52.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hold my breath</title><content type='html'>i have this friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we use to be very VERY good friends...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in fact, I had the biggest crush on him. he would kiss me, not really knowing how much&lt;br /&gt;he tore me up... because i never flat out told him my feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that was three years ago... and we havent hung out since. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we would sporadically see each other... but we never sat down and talked about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he text me the other day, i said we should hang out... so tonight we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it was amazing. it was like we never stopped being friends. there was plenty of silence, but it was not awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we laughed, teased, talked about life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was totally nervous, too. i even debated on canceling.  i just really didn't want it to be weird. and it wasn't. thank goodness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aw, I'm so happy that it wasn't weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3892781021304379786?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3892781021304379786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3892781021304379786' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3892781021304379786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3892781021304379786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/hold-my-breath.html' title='hold my breath'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-8536181232092552248</id><published>2008-08-20T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T18:16:52.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rain, rain finds its way</title><content type='html'>the wind is breaking branches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my socks are wet in thirty seconds. and i'm just standing in the same place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's humid. and cold rain is falling on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sure, i like my dose of sunshine... but i sure am a seattlite. i love my rain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha, i feel right at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;comfortable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just want to read a book, or watch a movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-8536181232092552248?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/8536181232092552248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=8536181232092552248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8536181232092552248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/8536181232092552248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/rain-rain-finds-its-way.html' title='rain, rain finds its way'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1638118818827686915</id><published>2008-08-15T22:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T11:54:43.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>those silly love songs</title><content type='html'>I marvel at how musicians can write a song that speaks to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just speaks- like you get it.  But the hand, the soul of the song flows from the mp3/ipod/cd player/boom box and wraps around your mind, your heart, everything. It's not something you understand, it's just a part of what you are. ARE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love a lot of songs, but rarely do I have a song like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I were as great of a writer as my brother... because he can express how he thinks and feels so well, in such an organized, poetic way. I don't have that talent. I just have strange rants that probably do not make any sense most of the time. &lt;br /&gt;Well, they make sense to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who wants to know the reason why I got a blog? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember looking through gmail, just seeing the random little things they offered, and saw that they had a blog option. I had a blog on a different website a few years ago, and my friends read that. Well, somehow that got me in trouble with them. Because they didn't understand that most of the things I talked about were... hypothetical, or random. Just thoughts. You know, what a journal should be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, none of my friends here know I have this. I don't see why they need to know. When I first wrote in here... I was feeling a million things (more like breaking into a million pieces, but that's history).  I didn't care if anybody read my blog, to me the point was someone could if they wanted to, and if they learned something from reading things I wrote then that's great.  But I got comments, and that ended up being a lot better than I thought. I ended up making two new friends (so far), and that's nice.&lt;br /&gt;It's nice because we are so different.&lt;br /&gt;And we get along. &lt;br /&gt;I like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People really amaze me sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To go, or not to go?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Search, or let go?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worry now, or wait until its happening to worry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be brave, or let myself worry in the first place? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step up, or stay? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"To be, or not to be? That is the question." &lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calm down &lt;br /&gt;Deep breaths &lt;br /&gt;And get yourself dressed instead &lt;br /&gt;Of running around &lt;br /&gt;And pulling all your threads and &lt;br /&gt;Breaking yourself up &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's a broken part, replace it &lt;br /&gt;But, if it's a broken arm then brace it &lt;br /&gt;If it's a broken heart then face it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hold your own &lt;br /&gt;Know your name &lt;br /&gt;And go your own way &lt;br /&gt;Hold your own &lt;br /&gt;Know your own name &lt;br /&gt;And go your own way &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everything will be fine &lt;br /&gt;Everything will be fine &lt;br /&gt;mmmhmm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang on &lt;br /&gt;Help is on the way &lt;br /&gt;Stay strong &lt;br /&gt;I'm doing everything &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are the details in the fabric &lt;br /&gt;Are the things that make you panic &lt;br /&gt;Are your thoughts results of static cling? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are the things that make you blow &lt;br /&gt;Hell, no reason, go on and scream &lt;br /&gt;If you're shocked it's just the fault &lt;br /&gt;Of faulty manufacturing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah everything will be fine &lt;br /&gt;Everything in no time at all &lt;br /&gt;Everything &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are the things that make you panic &lt;br /&gt;Are your thoughts results of static cling? (Go your own way) &lt;br /&gt;Is it Mother Nature's sewing machine? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything will be fine &lt;br /&gt;Everything in no time at all &lt;br /&gt;Hearts will hold &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-JASON MRAZ&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1638118818827686915?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1638118818827686915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1638118818827686915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1638118818827686915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1638118818827686915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/those-silly-love-songs.html' title='&lt;i&gt;those silly love songs&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-405469829603734660</id><published>2008-08-10T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T21:53:57.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HA! hot damn</title><content type='html'>I posted a blog August 8th (last Friday) and didnt even realize what that meant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago August 7th I entered my first blog entry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http:/stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2007/08/change.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day off, but woah. A year, guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went by so fast.  And so much about me has changed... But so much of me is the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My entire theme was courage...and change.... and they're both still my theme. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh, wow. Crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think if I decided not to add 'Beowulf' to my list of books... *shrugs* who knows? Who would read my ridiculous rants? ;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took an hour to read some of my blogs from 2007... wow. it's weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hrm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-405469829603734660?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/405469829603734660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=405469829603734660' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/405469829603734660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/405469829603734660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/ha-hot-damn.html' title='HA! hot damn'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-2367606715749689916</id><published>2008-08-08T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:27:59.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>there is no need to complicate our time</title><content type='html'>sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; sit in a park and look at the trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; do things for no reason &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;know that there isnt a reason for everything. some things just...are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lalalalala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stand still&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sit still&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your room is messy? so what. clean it when you have an overwhelming desire to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(even though i really should clean my room...) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;listen to Jason Mraz, because he is lovely. and very silly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;learn everyday, dont be the prick who thinks they know everything &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, i'm going to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so are you. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-2367606715749689916?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/2367606715749689916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=2367606715749689916' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2367606715749689916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/2367606715749689916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/08/there-is-no-need-to-complicate-our-time.html' title='there is no need to complicate our time'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5362557359292229548</id><published>2008-07-17T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T23:05:58.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh crap</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted for more than a MONTH?! I can't &lt;b&gt;believe&lt;/b&gt; how fast time is going. This is just outrageous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things to say, but I don't wanna do the 'Nathan'. (Yes- I just went there). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many different things are happening to me. Here's a list. I'm one of those many Americans that like listing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm getting a promotion at work- shift supervisor WOOT WOOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Also at Starbucks I'm a Coffee Master (which means i wear a black apron and I know a lot about our coffee. Yeeeah.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I got an internship with a TV show (telling you which one would be TMI- but it's cool.) I do a bunch of gofer stuff (make paper copies, burn extra cds, listen to interviews and write the transcripts, go on coffee runs since I have the discount, etc...) But I'm working with a bunch of laid back, really cool people. I love it. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*One of my good guy friends is coming into town and I havent seen him for a year. I cant wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'M SO EXCITED FOR 'THE DARK KNIGHT'! I cant put into words how excited. Midnight showing at the Imax theater? Sounds good to me! And my friend is there saving me a spot...so I am SET! (Ha, I should totally be on my way to see it now, but..yeah, right).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH! AND THE BEST PART:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how much I love the band Jimmy Eat World. In October I met one of them and had an AMAZING time at the show, then I followed them to Oregon with Paramore and enjoyed the show, but last tuesday (the 15th) they were in Seattle again...&lt;br /&gt;Not only was I first in line, at the rail the whole show, made friends with a bodygaurd that protected me from harm, and ALMOST got another pick if it wasnt for the bitch next to me...I topped all experiences. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, since I got to the show seven hours early (yes, I'm serious), but I saw there bus and parked right next to it. No one said anything, so I did. It was fucking sweet. So I walked slow and looked at the crew unloading and such. The band was running around and busy, so I couldnt walk up to them (plus I was getting stared down. Like if I tried I would have been punched in the face.) But it was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And AFTER the show I was walking back to my car when- oh shit- there is every single band member standing outside with only, like, 15 other fans hanging around them, signing autographs and actually talking to people. So I high-tail it over there and get all of their autographs, a pic, hugs, and I stand with them and have a conversation with ALL of them for..I dont know. 30-45 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THINK- JUST THINK: My FAVORITE artist of all time. Since I was the ripe age of 13. I have been madly in love with them. I got to stand there and talk to the guys that play the music that helped me survive during a really bad time in my life, and hang out with them. Have a conversation. Can you only imagine? I'm still in awe it happened. I'm in love. Oh yes, I am. And they are all SO NICE! INCREDIBLY NICE! Especially Jim (the lead singer) he is so cute. So friendly. I talked to him the most, he made it less awkward. We joked. OH, I made them laugh! They thought I was cute! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CANT BELIEVE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy. So happy. Cloud nine. Right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5362557359292229548?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5362557359292229548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5362557359292229548' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5362557359292229548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5362557359292229548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh-crap.html' title='Oh crap'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-3423368353305209119</id><published>2008-06-14T17:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T17:19:24.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boston &amp; Freedom</title><content type='html'>This is a pic of me and one of my best friends (the one I went to St.Louis with).  Behind us is the lake we camped by. It was gorgeous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SFReWVkE4UI/AAAAAAAAADE/LFdIPTmbcvc/s1600-h/CIMG0733.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SFReWVkE4UI/AAAAAAAAADE/LFdIPTmbcvc/s320/CIMG0733.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211894406613098818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SFResh-G71I/AAAAAAAAADM/p7O1tFSfNZ8/s1600-h/CIMG0731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SFResh-G71I/AAAAAAAAADM/p7O1tFSfNZ8/s320/CIMG0731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211894787900632914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunetly, I dont have any pics of Boston. However, I can tell you about it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; So, why? &lt;/b&gt;  My friend (in pic above) works for this super awesome organization that helps kids and communities. Every year there is this huge conference somewhere in the US where all of the different orgs get together and do something BIG for the city they stay at. This year it was Boston, and for the entire day HUNDREDS of volunteers helped us clean parks, paint schools and community buildings, plant trees and flowers, SO MANY THINGS there is no way I can remember everything we did for the whole city of Boston.  Bill Clinton came and gave us a fabulous speech (he is a wonderful public speaker). Gosh, he is a WAY better after President.  He is awesome. But I dont want to get into that. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was another wonderful experience.  I'm done traveling for another month- so YAY FOR ME! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom:  I finished my last final on Thursday *THANK GOODNESS!* So now I have the summer to frolic and play!  (Oh yeah... and work. haha)  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-3423368353305209119?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/3423368353305209119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=3423368353305209119' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3423368353305209119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/3423368353305209119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/06/boston-freedom.html' title='Boston &amp; Freedom'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SFReWVkE4UI/AAAAAAAAADE/LFdIPTmbcvc/s72-c/CIMG0733.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-5107753584246625990</id><published>2008-06-03T23:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T23:20:06.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>frivolous! incite!</title><content type='html'>It could be because all of the caffine I have consumed today is hitting me now (and hitting hard), or it could be from spending the past four hours writing a five page essay that is due tomorrow (when, of course, I had all the time in the world to do but decided I would much rather procrastinate then be a good student and do a little every day or two. bah)... but I decided to take a break from pondering on what to say next in my essay while sounding smart and shit and...blahblahblah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my blog, I do not have to sound smart and shit. haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I have not given an update on how my St. Louis WROCKSTOCK adventure was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have no idea how to explain how... breathtakingly marvolous it was.  I have not had a weekend like that in a very long time. Every minute of everyday was nothing but FUN and full of LOVE.  It was a weekend of loving love. That is the best way to explain it. Everyone wanted to be there to be with eachother... even if we didnt know someone, it didnt matter. We love them and wanted to see them.  I dont recall ever being in a place like that. I made so many new friends. I found love in wrock. I found a new family. My heart is sad because the weekend ended so quickly, but it's also happy because it was so... amazing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To tell the truth, I can type about this for a very long time, and I dont like writing as much as Nathan does in his blogs (hehe, I heart u!) so I think that that's good enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow I'm going to Boston. (For FREE!)  I will explain this later. When I dont have to write two more pages of an essay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*Love*~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-5107753584246625990?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/5107753584246625990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=5107753584246625990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5107753584246625990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/5107753584246625990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/06/frivolous-incite.html' title='frivolous! incite!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-68334989937574127</id><published>2008-05-21T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T15:30:19.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Right on</title><content type='html'>In the past week, I have met two famous people:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn Alexander (ex-Seahawk): He is incredibly nice and funny. I really adore him :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last night I went to a book signing for the author Stephanie Meyer, who wrote/is writing the 'Twilight' saga.  I havent been so infatuated with a book this way since Harry Potter, so it's a pretty big deal. :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I leave for St. Louis tomorrow for a weekend of INSANE adventure and fun! WOOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm SO ready for a vacation. It's going to be a blastie blast. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, and my dear friend (who is in the navy) is home, so I get to see him today. So much joy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-68334989937574127?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/68334989937574127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=68334989937574127' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/68334989937574127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/68334989937574127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/05/right-on.html' title='Right on'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4750134914388957391.post-1317350561645669671</id><published>2008-05-06T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T22:08:18.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woah, May!</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted for a while...so I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... I'm feeling okay.  For some reason I havent heard from that guy for a week.  It's confusing- because the last thing he said to me was he "cant wait to see me again". And nothing (I've called him... nothing).  So. Weird. &lt;br /&gt;Whatever. The guys I attract tend to be cowards. So there must be something he's not telling me.  &lt;br /&gt;*sigh* fuck it. i'm secure enough with myself right now where I dont ever care much..it's just lame, you know? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise I'm good. Healthy. Smiling. It's been sunny lately (in Seattle it's rare- so we enjoy it!)  So- yay! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/Shannon_Marie_07/?action=view&amp;current=sun.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/Shannon_Marie_07/sun.jpg" border="0" alt="sun"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4750134914388957391-1317350561645669671?l=stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/feeds/1317350561645669671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4750134914388957391&amp;postID=1317350561645669671' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1317350561645669671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4750134914388957391/posts/default/1317350561645669671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stacysgotcourage.blogspot.com/2008/05/woah-may.html' title='Woah, May!'/><author><name>*Stacy*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12760992829857391732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='18' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HgeZ2a0jcqE/SwTTANQ67DI/AAAAAAAAAJo/vuYp_nEqj2k/S220/DSC00911.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
