I made up another blog---> visit here
I did this, well, the blog explains why I did this. I even made it look really girly and frilly because I feel it makes the blog seem less serious that way. Actually, I didn't intentionally make it look that way but I don't plan on changing it anytime soon so I am compelled to make up for the way it looks.
Bahahaha, the link I originally typed in was "aheartsjourney" which has an 's' that doesn't belong and to result was some poem overwhelmingly bordered by butterflies and glittery designs. I didn't even read the poem because I was so taken over by all the bright colors.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
SPEEDO (the cat not the bathing suit brand)
Melise just introduced me to a very creepy video of a cat stalking someone holding a camera. It is one of the scariest things I have seen in a long time. If you can't tell by watching the video and then reading that statement, I don't watch a lot of scary movies.
The video reminded me of my cat Speedo we had when I was younger, in elementary school I think. Generally, he was an outside cat and would come inside when he pleased or at night. Kind of a bigger cat, hairy, soft, every child's joyous plaything. Except mine.
I can't recollect when or why he started it, but Speedo had this thing where he would stalk me from behind a large object; couch, doorway, whatever he could hide behind. It was as if he was honing his wild cat instincts and using me as a potential prey. I would be all the way down the hall in the living room and would see light reflecting off of his eyes just beyond the doorway of a dark room. He ONLY did this to ME. His eyes would focus in on my leg, and I'd freeze immediately. I thought maybe if I stood completely still he would become disinterested. That perhaps it was the kill he wanted to go in for. I was wrong. There was no escaping him.
Sometimes I could get in a warning call to Mom or Dad before the attack happened and they would swoop in to rescue me. Other times, not so lucky and I was in for a battle. Being home alone with Speedo was terrifying.
But I would see him, crouched down, like a tiger preparing to dig his claws deep in his prey. If I ran it just instigated the aggressive ambush. And really where could I run to? If I could make it to another room and shut the door, he would just wait for me to come out and it would just delay the inevitable. So I had to prepare myself and face him. Young and scared.
The stance was always recognizable. He'd crouch, maybe creep a few steps closer, and wiggle his butt. Then, he'd briefly freeze; the eye of the storm. And within a flash he would charge towards me and latch himself onto my leg as I screamed in pain with his claws and teeth buried in my skin. My dad would come out of nowhere with a rolled up newspaper and hit him with it as I shook my leg as if it would urge him to let go.
Speedo wasn't always a jerk to me. I liked him. He was my kitty. Every little girl loves her own kitty. So you can imagine being scarred by an animal you love dearly and never thought twice would betray you. But he did. And it was awful.
We always kept rolled up newspapers in places where the most frequent attacks occurred.
The video reminded me of my cat Speedo we had when I was younger, in elementary school I think. Generally, he was an outside cat and would come inside when he pleased or at night. Kind of a bigger cat, hairy, soft, every child's joyous plaything. Except mine.
I can't recollect when or why he started it, but Speedo had this thing where he would stalk me from behind a large object; couch, doorway, whatever he could hide behind. It was as if he was honing his wild cat instincts and using me as a potential prey. I would be all the way down the hall in the living room and would see light reflecting off of his eyes just beyond the doorway of a dark room. He ONLY did this to ME. His eyes would focus in on my leg, and I'd freeze immediately. I thought maybe if I stood completely still he would become disinterested. That perhaps it was the kill he wanted to go in for. I was wrong. There was no escaping him.
Sometimes I could get in a warning call to Mom or Dad before the attack happened and they would swoop in to rescue me. Other times, not so lucky and I was in for a battle. Being home alone with Speedo was terrifying.
But I would see him, crouched down, like a tiger preparing to dig his claws deep in his prey. If I ran it just instigated the aggressive ambush. And really where could I run to? If I could make it to another room and shut the door, he would just wait for me to come out and it would just delay the inevitable. So I had to prepare myself and face him. Young and scared.
The stance was always recognizable. He'd crouch, maybe creep a few steps closer, and wiggle his butt. Then, he'd briefly freeze; the eye of the storm. And within a flash he would charge towards me and latch himself onto my leg as I screamed in pain with his claws and teeth buried in my skin. My dad would come out of nowhere with a rolled up newspaper and hit him with it as I shook my leg as if it would urge him to let go.
Speedo wasn't always a jerk to me. I liked him. He was my kitty. Every little girl loves her own kitty. So you can imagine being scarred by an animal you love dearly and never thought twice would betray you. But he did. And it was awful.
We always kept rolled up newspapers in places where the most frequent attacks occurred.
Friday, January 21, 2011
"Love is the basic stuff of life." C.T. Vivian
I heard Reverend C.T. Vivian speak last night on campus. He is a man who has probably seen more violence in his 60 or more years peacefully fighting racism (he is 86) than most people have experienced in their lives today. He has stood alongside Dr. M.L.K., Jr. throughout his career prior to his assassination. He has met a lot of hate, a lot of violence, a lot of fear. But he has never succumbed to these things. His love for people was evident the moment he walked on the stage, smiling and waving. He looked no different than I would expect my own grandfather to resemble but my first reaction before he even spoke a word was that this was a man who instills passion into others to be better. He made me feel that way just by the same genuinely joyous smile he presents in the picture to the left.
We meet few people like that in our lives. People who have so much love and compassion that just their presence makes you want to give for others. I believe the person you spend the rest of your life with should also be of this nature. I also believe a lot of things about romantic love but I have not experienced this emotion in a very long time. So what do I know? But I am digressing....
Rev. Vivian came to campus to speak about Dr. King and the way he presented him was with astounding humility despite his own great accomplishments through the course of his life and fervent admiration for Dr. King. I feel that he might be the closest to the Dalai Lama I will ever have the privilege of listening to. And it was fantastic. He never dwelled on the "awe" shocking things that may have happened to him, but on the love from himself, Dr. King, and others that persevered for people of all kinds. A girl asked him how Dr. King could have kept the MOTIVATION to always speak to others, answer questions, and remain patient. Rev. Vivian's response, though drawn out much longer, was basically that he just loved people too dang much.
"Radical love," he said, "is the only thing that can defeat radical hatred."
Saturday, January 15, 2011
El Dia Que Me Quieras
This is the sweetest song of all time. Of course it's in Spanish and written about 50 years ago. Just makes it all the more wonderful. I apologize for not having appropriate accents over letters. For some reason I can't just copy and paste the lyrics over.
By Carlos Gardel
Acaricia mi ensueno It caresses my dream
el suave murmullo the soft whisper
de tu suspirar. of your sigh.
Come rie la vida How life laughs
si tus ojos negros if your black eyes
me quieran mirar. want to look at me.
Y si es mio el amparo And shelter is mine
de tu risa leve from your delicate laughter
que es como un cantar, that is like a song,
ella aquieta mi herida that eases my wound
todo todo se olvida. everything is forgotten.
El dia que me quieras The day that you love me
la rosa que engalana the rose that adorns
se vestira de fiesta will dress from celebration
con su mejor color. with its best color.
Y al viento las campanas And to the wind the church bells
diran que ya eres mia will say that you are mine
y locas las fontanas and the crazy fountains
se contaran su amor. will tell of their love.
La noche que me quieras The night that you love me
desde el azul del cielo, from the blue of the sky,
las estrellas celosas the jealous stars
nos miraran pasar. will watch us pass by.
Y un ravo misterioso And a mysterious ray
hara nido en tu pelo will be nested in your hair
luciernaga curiosa que veras curious firefly what you will see
que eres mi consuelo. that you are my comfort.
El dia que me quieras The day that you love me
no habra mas que armonia. there won't be anything more than harmony
Sera clara la aurora the dawn will be cleared
y alegre el manantial. and happy is the spring.
Traera quieta le brisa The breeze will quietly give
rumor de melodia. rumor of melody.
Y nos daran las fuentes And the fountains will give us
su canto de cristal. their crystal song.
El dia que me quieras, The day that you love me,
endulzaran sus cuerdas sweetening his chords
el pajaro cantor. the bird sings.
Florecera la vida Life blooms
no existira el dolor. pain will not exist.
La noche que me quieras The night that you love me
desde el azul del cielo, from the blue of the sky,
las estrellas celosas the jealous stars
nos miraran pasar. will watch us go by.
Y un ravo misterioso And a mysterious ray
hara nido en tu pelo. will nest in your hair.
Luciernaga curiosa que veras Curious firefly what you will see
que eres mi consuelo. that you are my comfort.
By Carlos Gardel
Acaricia mi ensueno It caresses my dream
el suave murmullo the soft whisper
de tu suspirar. of your sigh.
Come rie la vida How life laughs
si tus ojos negros if your black eyes
me quieran mirar. want to look at me.
Y si es mio el amparo And shelter is mine
de tu risa leve from your delicate laughter
que es como un cantar, that is like a song,
ella aquieta mi herida that eases my wound
todo todo se olvida. everything is forgotten.
El dia que me quieras The day that you love me
la rosa que engalana the rose that adorns
se vestira de fiesta will dress from celebration
con su mejor color. with its best color.
Y al viento las campanas And to the wind the church bells
diran que ya eres mia will say that you are mine
y locas las fontanas and the crazy fountains
se contaran su amor. will tell of their love.
La noche que me quieras The night that you love me
desde el azul del cielo, from the blue of the sky,
las estrellas celosas the jealous stars
nos miraran pasar. will watch us pass by.
Y un ravo misterioso And a mysterious ray
hara nido en tu pelo will be nested in your hair
luciernaga curiosa que veras curious firefly what you will see
que eres mi consuelo. that you are my comfort.
El dia que me quieras The day that you love me
no habra mas que armonia. there won't be anything more than harmony
Sera clara la aurora the dawn will be cleared
y alegre el manantial. and happy is the spring.
Traera quieta le brisa The breeze will quietly give
rumor de melodia. rumor of melody.
Y nos daran las fuentes And the fountains will give us
su canto de cristal. their crystal song.
El dia que me quieras, The day that you love me,
endulzaran sus cuerdas sweetening his chords
el pajaro cantor. the bird sings.
Florecera la vida Life blooms
no existira el dolor. pain will not exist.
La noche que me quieras The night that you love me
desde el azul del cielo, from the blue of the sky,
las estrellas celosas the jealous stars
nos miraran pasar. will watch us go by.
Y un ravo misterioso And a mysterious ray
hara nido en tu pelo. will nest in your hair.
Luciernaga curiosa que veras Curious firefly what you will see
que eres mi consuelo. that you are my comfort.
Friday, January 7, 2011
I love you, dad.
January 7, 2011. It is my dad's 60th birthday.
I meant to write one of these for my mom's birthday at the end of December but we spent the days after Christmas and until her birthday in Ohio where we did not have internet, and I left my computer at home. So before I continue on I want to give a huge "I love you!" to my mom as well for the way our relationship has changed and grown over the past 22 years. I will most likely commit a post to her another time.
My dad is a writer and a poet, a good one, and I feel this is an acceptable way to express my adoration for him.
The title of my blog is "Shaping Motivation". Often times people lose their motivations over a course of years for the passions they once held. You have been teaching/coaching for 36 years and still love what you do. All of your students feel it and your co-workers enjoy working with such an honorable man each day. When I was younger you juggled being a committed English teacher, a coach of multiple sports, manager of a pizza place, and father of 3 complex girls; all in one day. This blog is titled after the Dalai Lama, but if there were ever anyone that applied his wisdom to their lives it is you. For today, this blog is dedicated for the motivation that is shaped in your heart and that is working itself through mine to be the best in my commitments.
For having three daughters, you always found time to dedicate to each of us to make us feel like we were/are more special than the other two. I could boast for all the soccer games you drove me to, all the times we went over proper positioning on the soccer field with salt and pepper shakers and napkin dispensers in the middle of a restaurant, helping me practice ("Practice, practice, practice. And when you're sick of practicing, keep practicing."), my first guitar, reading over papers and working on science projects, reading to me and staying with me until I fell asleep. Any interest I ever expressed you found some way to encourage it. When I went through my scuba diving phase you bought me a "How To Scuba Dive" book though I never committed to taking any lessons. As I grew an interest in international service trips you said that I needed to take self defense classes first. Just a couple of weeks ago you showed up with a used climbing book for me, and even if you don't realize it it shows me that you are concerned about things I love doing and want to see me succeed no matter what the cause is. I could boast for several things, things that made me feel that I stood apart from my older sisters and that I was the daughter you preferred to hang out with. I could boast for these but I know that you made Brittany and Chelsea feel the same way as they grew up. For this, you are an incredible father.
I meant to write one of these for my mom's birthday at the end of December but we spent the days after Christmas and until her birthday in Ohio where we did not have internet, and I left my computer at home. So before I continue on I want to give a huge "I love you!" to my mom as well for the way our relationship has changed and grown over the past 22 years. I will most likely commit a post to her another time.
My dad is a writer and a poet, a good one, and I feel this is an acceptable way to express my adoration for him.
The title of my blog is "Shaping Motivation". Often times people lose their motivations over a course of years for the passions they once held. You have been teaching/coaching for 36 years and still love what you do. All of your students feel it and your co-workers enjoy working with such an honorable man each day. When I was younger you juggled being a committed English teacher, a coach of multiple sports, manager of a pizza place, and father of 3 complex girls; all in one day. This blog is titled after the Dalai Lama, but if there were ever anyone that applied his wisdom to their lives it is you. For today, this blog is dedicated for the motivation that is shaped in your heart and that is working itself through mine to be the best in my commitments.
For having three daughters, you always found time to dedicate to each of us to make us feel like we were/are more special than the other two. I could boast for all the soccer games you drove me to, all the times we went over proper positioning on the soccer field with salt and pepper shakers and napkin dispensers in the middle of a restaurant, helping me practice ("Practice, practice, practice. And when you're sick of practicing, keep practicing."), my first guitar, reading over papers and working on science projects, reading to me and staying with me until I fell asleep. Any interest I ever expressed you found some way to encourage it. When I went through my scuba diving phase you bought me a "How To Scuba Dive" book though I never committed to taking any lessons. As I grew an interest in international service trips you said that I needed to take self defense classes first. Just a couple of weeks ago you showed up with a used climbing book for me, and even if you don't realize it it shows me that you are concerned about things I love doing and want to see me succeed no matter what the cause is. I could boast for several things, things that made me feel that I stood apart from my older sisters and that I was the daughter you preferred to hang out with. I could boast for these but I know that you made Brittany and Chelsea feel the same way as they grew up. For this, you are an incredible father.
Your passion and commitment for everything exudes and spreads into others. I have been learning from you since I had short, boy-cut hair and had to almost run to keep up with your stride (which I also tried to copy). I watched you give money to others; some you barely knew, some good friends. One time I think you gave a man you had just met a few dollars because your charisma and care for other people allow others to feel they can confide in you, even in first encounters. I cannot count the number of words I have heard in respect and adoration towards you as a coach, friend, and teacher. Sometimes my only response is to say, "He is the same as a dad too."
I have strived to be as much like you as I could throughout the years. To care for other people. To give to others. To live to my passions. To write. To seek wisdom. To hold a calm heart. To appreciate the things you have been given, good or bad, and to make out of them what best you can. You take things in and look past the superficial. You strive to better yourself even though in my eyes you are perfect. You have shown examples by actions and words.
In high school once when I was teary eyed from a silly break-up you took me in and jokingly said to me, "You only need me in your life anyways." I laughed. As I look back on all my past relationships no guy could stand next to you in character. As I have grown older, it has become more important to me to find someone that will be as good of a man as you are. This makes it difficult sometimes because there really are few like you, but I know in the end it will be worth the wait and the opportunities I will have to grow in my own way.
Thank you, dad, for all of these things. Most importantly thank you for allowing me to realize that even though sometimes I demand independence and to be free-spirited, I will always know that I will make mistakes and need to remain somewhat grounded. Please know that none of my actions in the past have been in vain. I have learned and sought out answers and ways to be a better person for others though I have so much growing still to be accomplished. I recognize and appreciate how difficult it must be for you and mom to step back sometimes and let me continue on, often without direction. As a parent you want to always protect me and I hope I can keep that trust and complete blind faith that I suspect you must have in me, even though sometimes I feel I do not rightfully deserve them.
I love you, dad. For the person you are and for the person I have become because of you.
My sister Chelsea had one of her creative ideas and decided that each of us would write 20 things we love about dad. 20 x 3= 60. This is my 20...I deleted them before he got a chance to read them for his birthday.
I love you, dad. For the person you are and for the person I have become because of you.
My sister Chelsea had one of her creative ideas and decided that each of us would write 20 things we love about dad. 20 x 3= 60. This is my 20...I deleted them before he got a chance to read them for his birthday.
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