<?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-33646647</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:03:51.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let all go</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-7127269151429593934</id><published>2007-03-20T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T11:33:06.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Neglect</title><content type='html'>Aside from the obvious neglect of this blog, I have been neglecting other things in my life.  I wonder what causes these tasks to be pushed to the back burner.  Is it a lack of interest, is it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;simply&lt;/span&gt; a lethargic cloud that has settled in, or could it be a fear of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I firmly believe that a fear of failure, more specifically of disappointment, governs the majority of people's actions.  We aren't so much afraid to fail, but afraid of what that failure means.  It could mean letting yourself down, or even letting down someone you care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, I have a stack of essays that I have been meaning to grade, but after grading the first set, and being horribly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; in the end products of my unit of teaching, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;everyday&lt;/span&gt; I place these at the bottom of my stack to be graded.  Ironically, I carry them home everyday in my school bag, I tote them on weekends, I even bring them to the library and the coffee shop.  And these essays, which have become the albatross around my neck, are all on The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner itself.  There must be humor there for someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More importantly, this neglect has reached a deeper status.  I have neglected to make some important decisions.  Almost daily I become wrought with frustration over the ambivalence which has become my "destiny," yet I am paralyzed from action.  I simply must make up my mind: Atlanta, or New York.  Yet, it is so complicated, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ominous&lt;/span&gt;, so involved, that I choose to simply make no motion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past couple days I have been pushing forward; beginning with what my new career should be.  This is step is quite frustrating, and I am still at a loss as to what I think I would enjoy/ be good at doing.  But this fret is nothing new to the experience of humanity, so I am sure it will workout in the end. I just cannot sit back any longer.  The season change has inspired growth somewhere within me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the positive side, I have not been neglecting to go to the gym and cook healthy meals, and for that I am actually a little proud of myself.  At least I will be a healthy unemployed vagrant!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-7127269151429593934?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/7127269151429593934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=7127269151429593934' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/7127269151429593934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/7127269151429593934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2007/03/neglect.html' title='Neglect'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-5560528508269702511</id><published>2007-01-31T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T11:57:28.285-08:00</updated><title type='text'>winding down</title><content type='html'>With swim season coming to a close, I can almost taste the delicious bite of afternoon naps again.  Its been a long four months, but as of February 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, I will be done with coaching.  It's sad because I actually enjoy the coaching aspect of my job, and those interactions with the kids, more than the discipline and the grading of teaching. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the real reason for this post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you get a chance you must see &lt;em&gt;Pan's Labyrinth&lt;/em&gt;.  It was so good.  I think I will have to see it again.  It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; is a fairy tale, drenched in sadness, and mystery...full of magic, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;heroes&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;villains&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mischievous&lt;/span&gt; characters and more.  It is a beautiful film, and like always, after the first few minutes you don't even notice the subtitles.  The movie, to warn you, is no children's movie.  My eyes were covered and shielded by Kelly's shoulder for a good 10% of the film.  I think I like it because it takes the beauty of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Spanish&lt;/span&gt;, the magical realism twist of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the Horror of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Grimm's&lt;/span&gt;, the Tragedy of Hans Christian Anderson, and the mystery of a labyrinth, and the innocence of a child and wraps it up into a package of wonderment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I have been cooking a lot more.  It is really nice to cook.  It is so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;therapeutic&lt;/span&gt;, and there is an immediate sense of completion and gratification.  Not only does it save money, but it allows for artistic expression, and dietary control.  Like everything else though, it makes me wish there were more hours in the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, there is so much new music to listen to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-5560528508269702511?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/5560528508269702511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=5560528508269702511' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5560528508269702511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5560528508269702511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2007/01/winding-down.html' title='winding down'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-4774986957130129004</id><published>2007-01-18T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T11:20:00.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dare accepted</title><content type='html'>My good friend Nick dared me to blog about what I am wearing today.   There was actually a little thought put into my outfit today.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Interestingly&lt;/span&gt; enough today I will be wearing three outfits: one for teaching, one for coaching, and one to go out.  Since the temperature is hovering around freezing, and the drizzle continues to fall, I needed to dress for warmth.  I feel prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My teaching outfit:  Suede brown knee boots to keep my legs warm, paired with argyle socks.  I love argyle socks.  These boots annoy me because they are supposed to slouch; however, the left boot slouches significantly lower than my right, leaving my left calf feeling a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;incompetent&lt;/span&gt;.  Who makes defective boots?  Brown slacks with pink pinstripes (wool of course).  A rose colored, wool, v-neck sweater.  I don't even like pink, but I bought this sweater on sale just for work.  That is the one things I hate about the workforce.  Everyday I feel like I am playing dress up.  I don't feel comfortable, or like myself in these conservative, boring work clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  My coaching outfit:  Ugh, I really need new tennis shoes.  I have had this old, gray pair of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;nikes&lt;/span&gt; for at least 3 years.   Black running pants. Vintage, gray, Mickey mouse sweatshirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Going out:  Tonight I am going to see a show.  My friends Pasadena and Nate Nelson (who is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Gia's&lt;/span&gt; boyfriend) are playing.  Both are quite good.  I will be wearing my black pirate-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt; books. (leather, knee high, flat, buckle...) Levis, and most likely a black turtleneck.  I like to look pretentious when going to shows alone so no one will talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sporting 3 outfits a day is tiring, and a bit absurd.  Hence, probably why I detest laundry.  Oh yes....jewelry...VW key ring, drop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;earrings&lt;/span&gt;, and a tree shaped necklace.  For outerwear...brown long jacket with big brown buttons, a brown and pink scarf &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Kelly&lt;/span&gt; gave me, and fingerless mittens.  I never go anywhere without my fingerless mittens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I am about to teach satire and Swift to my seniors.  I am starting with Dr. Seuss, I hope they get it. Does everything we know start with Seuss?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-4774986957130129004?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/4774986957130129004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=4774986957130129004' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/4774986957130129004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/4774986957130129004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2007/01/dare-accepted.html' title='Dare accepted'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-8933324632611144564</id><published>2007-01-17T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T12:28:23.878-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it all becomes new again</title><content type='html'>I guess I have to post my obligatory New Years post, so here it goes.  Already I can sense that this is a year of changes.  As cliche as it may seem (aren't changes always happening), I feel like these will be big ones.  Change has never really scared me before; actually it has excited me, but this year it is a little intimidating.  Mainly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I am, for the first time, unaware of my direction.  I will list things in this blog post to make my wanderings more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accessible&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certainties:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Love, and he is wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;2. I am finished at my current job.&lt;br /&gt;3. Teaching makes me mean.&lt;br /&gt;4. I will make something mine.&lt;br /&gt;5. I need more sleep, exhaustion has set in.&lt;br /&gt;6. I have renewed my lease for 6 months.&lt;br /&gt;7. I need more time for music, glorious music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncertainties:&lt;br /&gt;1. Where I will be living 6 months from now.&lt;br /&gt;2. What I should do for money. &lt;br /&gt;3. Is there job that will make me happy?  Something I am suited for?&lt;br /&gt;4. Why I still get sad.&lt;br /&gt;5. When will I sleep through the night again.&lt;br /&gt;6. Will I write and when?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes life just gets crazy.  You spin and spin, and then in the middle of your whirling the world passes around you, but you are too dizzy to see it.  I never want to miss a moment of what it has to offer.  I want to continue to be a sponge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have resolved to write more, to focus more on recording observations.  Even if they are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;merely&lt;/span&gt; snapshots with no real depth or meaning, they should be valued for the representations of the world view. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our glorious San Francisco trip I...well there is too much to say.  I wanted to record he entire trip, but I was too busy living to reflect.  It is great to have a travel partner.  Simply put, It was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read &lt;em&gt;Kite Runner.  &lt;/em&gt;It was very good, but a little haunting.  I am reading&lt;em&gt; The Miracle of Mindfulness. &lt;/em&gt;  I hope I learn something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw &lt;em&gt;The Departed.&lt;/em&gt;It was awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had the energy to comment on these things, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; my job is sucking me dry.  More frequent and shorter posts...that's my resolution for this year. To make the reflection less ominous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-8933324632611144564?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/8933324632611144564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=8933324632611144564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/8933324632611144564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/8933324632611144564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2007/01/it-all-becomes-new-again.html' title='it all becomes new again'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-5861563205284575259</id><published>2006-12-01T05:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T07:25:11.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Tree</title><content type='html'>First Tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holding your hand I walked toward the sweet, winter smell.&lt;br /&gt;I was wearing flipflops, and a tee shirt,&lt;br /&gt;And you commented on how strange it was to be so warm in December.&lt;br /&gt;But temperature doesn’t matter.&lt;br /&gt;We stood between heaps of hewn trees,&lt;br /&gt;Debating over the best. “That one’s too big!”&lt;br /&gt;You humored me, and made each one take a catwalk turn.&lt;br /&gt;I hugged him, told him I loved him,&lt;br /&gt;And then we had him bound and strapped to the roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the drive home my cheeks hurt from smiling,&lt;br /&gt;You held my hand, and we said many unspoken entreaties,&lt;br /&gt;That the tree would not fall from the roof of the car.&lt;br /&gt;I imagined it smashing into the car behind us.&lt;br /&gt;The shards glass from the unsuspecting windshield&lt;br /&gt;Making icicles on the fresh limbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Distraction and excitement caught us both.&lt;br /&gt;You left the car door open for hours.&lt;br /&gt;And the cats, crept around the base, drinking the sap sweetened water,&lt;br /&gt;and plotting how to knock it over during one of our midwinter naps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a little thing-- buying a Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;But it was my first. He is beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;In the living room of my tiny apartment.&lt;br /&gt;Even though he takes up too much room, and crowds the couch, and blocks half of the tv, I think he is perfect. I think we’re perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hours later, after I come home from the smoky bar and old friends,&lt;br /&gt;We are laying in bed. We have just showered,&lt;br /&gt;And your hair sticks to your forehead as we lay in silence.&lt;br /&gt;I check my email for the last time at night, (I promise)&lt;br /&gt;As you read next to me in bed, you left hand wanders&lt;br /&gt;To caress my shoulders, without being conscious of the fact&lt;br /&gt;You are even reaching for me. I stare into your eyes, and know&lt;br /&gt;That I love you even more for the tree. I never think it is possible&lt;br /&gt;To open my heart more, to find more space to let you in.&lt;br /&gt;But then in the middle of everything: messy apartments, quarreling families, sickness, tests, work, you find me. I am finding that I am to busy finding to bother with searching.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-5861563205284575259?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/5861563205284575259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=5861563205284575259' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5861563205284575259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5861563205284575259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/12/first-tree.html' title='First Tree'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-1114096709644406517</id><published>2006-11-01T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T07:08:08.239-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting older</title><content type='html'>You know you are getting old(er) when everyone annoys you.  Last night we went to see Beck at a last minute show.  The show itself was awesome.  Beck is incredible, and the band in costume was quite a spectacle.  I think I should take dance lessons from his percussionist.  It was a very intimate performance at the Loft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I may have been in a little bit of a sour mood because I had been dealing with kids hyped up on sugar and network crashes at work all day, or because I only slept 4 hours the night before, or because I couldn't decide on a last minute Halloween costume, or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I had heartburn, or because I put 130 miles on my car in one day.  Regardless, Halloween wasn't a night for freaks, it was a night for obnoxious losers.  From the giant buffoon who kept &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gyrating&lt;/span&gt; closer and closer to my personal space, to the drunk girl cigarette arsonist, to the high school seniors who maybe knew one Beck song, to the guy with the giant head on a pole that kept blocking my view of the stage and his annoying woman who kept pushing her way through the crowd and continuously bringing a plethora of strangers in front from the back...the concert became annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lately&lt;/span&gt;, I have been avoiding the front area of the stage like the plague.  I think the music is getting louder.  Feeling half deaf out of your left ear is not a pleasing symptom when you are trying to lead discussions.  The constant ringing that follows a show must mean I am doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;permanent&lt;/span&gt; damage.  The problem is that, from anywhere far away I can't see, and I am disturbed by show talkers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the same things happened at the Yeah Yeah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Yeah's&lt;/span&gt; show.  Am I getting old, am I uncool?  I've been going to shows for 10 years, and lately, I am beginning to dread aspects of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will compile etiquette guidelines for shows.  Any ideas?&lt;br /&gt;1. Do not request cover songs at the top of your lungs, especially Skynard or Bon Jovi.  You are not funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you must smoke, do not exhale smoke anywhere but directly up, and do not dance.  I have not need for cancer, smelly clothing or burns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Do not talk over the band. I understand some discussion is required and entertaining among friends, but the best way to hear someone in a loud room is a quiet voice directed into that person's ear.  I am here to hear the band, not your drunk slurs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Shower, for god sakes shower, and nasty perfume/cologne does not equal a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Do not touch someone you do not know.  I don't care if you accientally touch me, the proper response is not to kiss me on the head and appologize, or to grab my arm, call me honey and appologize, or repeat "do you hate me, you hate me, don't you?"  Find personal space if you must rave or grind.  I understand it is crowded, but if you bump someone, MOVE or STOP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-1114096709644406517?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/1114096709644406517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=1114096709644406517' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/1114096709644406517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/1114096709644406517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/11/getting-older.html' title='Getting older'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-6892409487666226215</id><published>2006-10-23T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T05:05:42.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/1600/DSC01171.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/400/DSC01171.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/1600/DSC01212.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/400/DSC01212.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/1600/DSC01183.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/400/DSC01183.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/1600/DSC01192.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/400/DSC01192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/1600/DSC01205.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2103/4107/400/DSC01205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://georgiatrails.com/trails/slaughter.html"&gt;Blood Mountain&lt;/a&gt; is the reason I smell like old people today. Last time I counted I had three icy/hot patches attached to various muscles, that before yesterday, I didn't know I had. My ankles and knees are bruised and swollen. I feel as if I aged 20 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;years&lt;/span&gt; over the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I had to get the complaining out of the way. Other than wanting to stay in the bathtub for the rest of my natural born life, I feel great. Saturday night we went camping. So, I strapped a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;forty&lt;/span&gt; odd pound pack to my back, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;commenced&lt;/span&gt; the steady uphill climb. About 5:30, and quite winded we finally made camp. Kelly is a wonderful firewood cutter. Maybe he needs a new nickname like "lumberjack" or "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Paul&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bunyan&lt;/span&gt;." We ate black beans, rice, and chicken for dinner. Built a lovely campfire, pitched a cozy tent. We made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;smores&lt;/span&gt; with strawberries instead of chocolate, made cider and hot cocoa. We played cards, looked at the stars, and poked the fire. It was perfect, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;until&lt;/span&gt; the rain. I woke up in the wee hours of the morning to a cold drip hitting me on the face. Then the ache of the previous day's hike began to settle into my muscle and bones. Overall, it was a wonderful trip, with just a couple "sore spots;" however, I believe my hiking/camping expeditions will need to be limited to once a year. Hiking alone...fine. Camping near car...fine. Hiking 3 miles, then camping, with rain and cold...not so fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we took Athens by storm. I learned several things 1. Cara should not begin drinking at 6:30. 2. Fantasy rap is hilarious. 3. City bar has the best deal on large, cheap drinks. 4. My parents are party &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;poopers&lt;/span&gt;. 5. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Kabobs&lt;/span&gt; are from Turkey. 6. Other people's drunk text messages especially do not make sense when you are drunk. Good times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to a busy week. I have a meeting everyday after school. Swim practice begins this week, so here comes super busy, super organized Cara. If you want me...book me in advance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to the beach (St. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Simon's&lt;/span&gt;) for GA/FLA this weekend. That island feels like home to me. I can't wait to be there, and to take the day off Friday. I can't wait to show it, and the craziness of the weekend, to Kelly. I think he will get a kick out of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-6892409487666226215?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/6892409487666226215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=6892409487666226215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/6892409487666226215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/6892409487666226215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/10/blood-mountain-is-reason-i-smell-like.html' title=''/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-5116818907145482190</id><published>2006-10-17T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T06:55:54.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I got sconed in bangkok</title><content type='html'>So, if you missed the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in Atlanta this past weekend, then you have every reason to throw yourself a pity party.  It was an amazing show!  The entire purpose for this blog is simply to proclaim Karen O as my hero.  The energy that woman brings to the stage is amazing!  Words escape me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have been spending a lot of time at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Inman&lt;/span&gt; Perk lately.  I like that coffee shop.  Yesterday, we tried to have a study session. My friends are all looking for jobs, applying to grad schools, studying for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;GRE&lt;/span&gt; or LSAT.  So we met to be productive.  Needless to say, I wasn't.  I do not; however, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;recommend&lt;/span&gt; a mixture of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;miso&lt;/span&gt; soup, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;avocado&lt;/span&gt; roll, a double shot of espresso and hot cider. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like it when people can make me laugh.  I really like laughing.  It would be horrible to be one of those people who don't see humor everywhere they turn. I hope they don't ban me from the coffee shop for laughing too much at Kevin's poop stories, but if they did at least I would have a good reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the random post, but that is how my mind is working today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a quotation by Eudora &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Welty&lt;/span&gt; that I have been working over in my mind.  If is from her essay on "A Worn Path,"  "Is Phoenix Jackson's Grandson really dead?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The habit of love cuts through confusion and stumbles or contrives its way out of difficulty, it remembers the way even when it forgets, for a dumbfounded moment, its reason for being. The path is the thing that matters."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-5116818907145482190?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/5116818907145482190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=5116818907145482190' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5116818907145482190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5116818907145482190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-got-sconed-in-bangkok.html' title='I got sconed in bangkok'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-1936760790175134081</id><published>2006-10-12T05:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T05:25:13.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>I have been very lax in posting lately.  This procrastination may be for a few reasons.  First of all, work has been very time consuming.  Then I have been pretty indecisive about what to blog about.  Other than the fact that I am incapable of making a decision, life has been amazing.  I feel, for the first time in a long time, that I am actually living again.  No longer do I feel like I am simply just trying to make it to the next day, or content to rise, eat, work, party and sleep.  But I am sure that my life is moving in a new direction, and I couldn't be more excited or nervous. It is all so new that there aren't words to really discuss it now, but soon.  These emotions and experiences will work themselves out of me, as they always do, in some written expression before all is said and done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become addicted to Lost.  Quite addicted.  Kelly and I decided to start watching it from the beginning, and last night we finished season one.  We have been discussing character's names.  Specifically Locke.  Its been a while since I studied up on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lockean&lt;/span&gt; philosophy, or my Rousseau, but it has made me start to think about how we end up the complicated creatures that we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't taken a psych class since graduation, but being a teacher keeps me enthralled by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;possibilities&lt;/span&gt; of human nature.  What makes us kill?  What makes us cry?  Why do we love?  How do we learn to love.  On some greater level, I'm not sure that we need to know the answers to the nature v. nurture question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poetry soon, even if its not my own.  I feel it.  I have been reading a lot of it in quiet moments (they are rare), and old favorites have new meanings these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-1936760790175134081?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/1936760790175134081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=1936760790175134081' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/1936760790175134081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/1936760790175134081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/10/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-5136046579752363446</id><published>2006-09-12T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T07:41:34.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I love technology"</title><content type='html'>Call me a nerd, but I think this is really cool.  Apparently, &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14733398/"&gt;Atlanta&lt;/a&gt; is the most wired city in the U.S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-5136046579752363446?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/5136046579752363446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=5136046579752363446' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5136046579752363446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/5136046579752363446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-love-technology.html' title='&quot;I love technology&quot;'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-3303057930720830840</id><published>2006-09-11T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T11:41:46.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Open House</title><content type='html'>Tonight is open house, which means I will be at work until roughly 8:30.  I should be grading papers instead of playing online, but I need a break.  My friend &lt;a href="http://nickgray.net/"&gt;Nick &lt;/a&gt; posts weekly updates on what he's been doing and what he finds interesting, so I thought I would emulate him as a way to start things off on the right foot.  Who knows how long I will keep it up, but at least I will have something to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend was wonderful.  Friday night was tequila night.  We started with margaritas, and ended with shots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;patron&lt;/span&gt;.  I have decided that the only way to drink margaritas is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;al&lt;/span&gt; fresco, it adds a certain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;je&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;sais&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;quoi&lt;/span&gt; to the experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, after my headache subsided a little I got a smoothie and headed to yoga.  My friend has a class at her house on Saturday mornings, that I have just started taking.  I have never really been into yoga before.  I have done a little bit of dabbling, and some more serious dabbling in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;pilates&lt;/span&gt;, but never seemed to get serious about it.  Maybe that is a common theme in my floundering life.  I am finding it hard, but extremely rewarding.  My body always aches afterward, but I feel energized. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After yoga we had lunch at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;metrofresh&lt;/span&gt;.  It was cute, the tomato basil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;parmesan&lt;/span&gt; soup was delicious, the chicken salad was lacking.  Then I relaxed, I am slowly learning to unwind, to just be, and to not feel like I am wasting my time.  I cleaned, which is always fun for me:).  Then it was time for football! I think I sense a return of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;UGA&lt;/span&gt; obsession which was lacking last year.  For me, I had quite a football filled weekend, and I realized I had forgotten how enjoyable it can be to watch.  Especially when cleaning, cooking, grading or drinking.  We went to a party that night, and I hadn't realized how much I have missed my friends from college.  The last year it has been difficult to be around my old friends, but the last two times, it has been really nice, and fun, and I wonder why I decided to spend time away in smoky hangouts.  Later that night I saw the Features at the Earl.  Good show.  too much vodka...fell asleep on couch with bag of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;cheetos&lt;/span&gt; in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday...I was hungry and cranky when I woke up.  Einsteins and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;frisbe&lt;/span&gt; in Piedmont park quickly cured me of my moodiness.  I was introduced to the amazing abilities of google calendar.  It is so wonderful to be able to share your calendar, it makes planning (me plan?) so much easier, and organized.  So far I highly recommend it.  I watched the Falcons game, and did more relaxing/grading. The evening was a perfect mix of conversation, meeting new people, more football, and relaxation.  I fell asleep again on the couch to manning v. manning.  (I AM SLEEPING!!!  it is wonderful...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I don't think I am going to listen to anything but Justin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Timberlake&lt;/span&gt; ever again, or at least for a very very long time.  Poke fun if you like, but I am serious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my weekend was fun filled and relaxing all in one.  I can't wait to see what this week holds...a little Flaming Lips for sure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-3303057930720830840?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/3303057930720830840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=3303057930720830840' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/3303057930720830840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/3303057930720830840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/09/open-house.html' title='Open House'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-115765049943069491</id><published>2006-09-07T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T10:34:59.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn</title><content type='html'>It is finally beginning to cool off, and I can only hope that the weather continues to change. I am so ready for hoodies, scarves, and fingerless gloves. I miss my boots. I was telling someone, earlier this week, how much I miss my boots. They are like getting a hug all day long. I actually felt a consuming sense of sadness this spring when the weather got too hot to wear my leather friends. They are like my security blanket, they make me feel warm, tough, sexy and stylish all at once. There aren't many other things that you can say that for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still a little confused as to what to write about here. I know eventually I will post some poetry or fiction...even maybe some music and movie recommendations. Do I write about what a lovely evening I had Tuesday night? Do I tell you that I finally saw High Fidelity, and I feel like I was missing on something for the last 5 years? Do I post how glad I am to see Vincent kicked off Project Runway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to feel better, finally. Hopefully my allergies aren't starting up. I have the worst ragweed ever! I think I will sleep with the windows open anyways, and just admit that I have a Claritin D problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-115765049943069491?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/115765049943069491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=115765049943069491' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/115765049943069491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/115765049943069491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/09/autumn.html' title='Autumn'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-115729833984409851</id><published>2006-09-03T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-03T08:45:40.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginnings</title><content type='html'>So, I am a little delirious, thanks to the multitudes of cold medicines I have been trying while looking for a remedy for this annoying ailment, but I am going to try to post regardless of my clarity of thought. It could be confusing, it could be very confusing, but somewhere embedded in the run on sentences and ellipsis, there will be a flake of honesty. However trite or conceived it may be, most prefaces to literature contain an apology to the reader, so here's mine. I am sick, and my blogs come to me on the spot. They are sort of a written meditation of careless thoughts floating through my mind. When I have a question I pause and write about it, examine it form different angles, and then hopefully decide on an opinion for that day. Then I hope that by putting it out "there" I will get other's opinions on the same insignificant thought distracting me from productivity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While not being able to sleep last night, interspersed with feverish dreams and persistent coughs, I thought about the idea of starting over. Many of the dear ones in my life have noticed that the last year or so I have been looking for something else. Call it quarterlife crisis, call it your twenties, call it searching for yourself, heck...call it mental instability and fear of commitments. I don't think that it is really any of those things. I am yet to be what I know I will become, and I am unsteady in the process because I am undecided as the best path to take to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the question of the day? Is starting over possible? Is it necessary for success, or even for forward progress? When is it right to let go and move forward.? Is it possible to completely let go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this transition phase of my life (but aren't they all transition phases?) I have concluded that I do need a change. Fear of failure has stopped me, and held me back. I have been reserved in choosing to move, but I don't think I will be anymore. I have been scared to expose my heart again. I have wanted to make progress towards writing more poetry, towards getting a masters in English Literature, and move to New York City. I feel like this is where I am supposed to go. I am afraid. I don't want to leave my friends and family behind. I don't want to quit a good job, albeit one I find horribly frustrating and unrewarding most days, to be left financially unstable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we start over, do we really begin again. After letting go of a love I had for a very long time, I have found it very hard to begin again. I have dated and cared for people. But I find that I am a much more vulnerable person than before. The non success (we won't call it a failure) of my previous relationship, has made me guarded. I am quick to be affectionate, quick to care, but very slow to open up and reveal the soft parts of myself again. I am at a place where I really want to. So in this regards, I am wondering if starting over is possible. How does one leave scars behind, and move on unaffected. I am not sure that I want to leave everything I learned in the past year behind me, or what I learned about myself in that relationship behind. But do I need to start with that proverbial clean slate to really make myself available?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, to end my rambling, I question if we take with us wherever we go, the experiences of the past. If the goal of life is to achieve happiness (and that's another discussion of its own), then to move forward in life is to move towards happiness. Can we do this only by letting go of the past, or merely the things holding us to the past. Is there ever a possibility of moving on with learning and understanding, but unihibited by the nagging nostalgia of things that once were, dreams we once had, loves we've lost? Is starting over a reality? Or are we, in all actuality, running from something. I see too many of my friends leave, and change, and end up miserable. I see people leave and find immediately what they were looking for. I see people haunted by things or people from their past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only advice I get is to "follow what you know best in your heart." Well what if that heart has led me astray in the past. I guess part of the beauty of our condition is the not knowing. The excitement of learning what will happen next. The thrill of discovering the world through multiple lenses. I guess I am saying that I am ready for anything and everything...to start over, to move forward, to fail and to let my heart open to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for more tylenol pm. I'll probably delete this post tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-115729833984409851?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/115729833984409851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=115729833984409851' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/115729833984409851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/115729833984409851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/09/beginnings.html' title='Beginnings'/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33646647.post-115703355435963537</id><published>2006-08-31T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T07:12:34.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have decided to start a blog. That is all for today. Hopefully more will come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33646647-115703355435963537?l=letallgo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/feeds/115703355435963537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33646647&amp;postID=115703355435963537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/115703355435963537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33646647/posts/default/115703355435963537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://letallgo.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-have-decided-to-start-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>c.i.r.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04517921657840640945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i70.photobucket.com/albums/i109/cararankart/gianna-0113.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
