<?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-6619725888466336826</id><updated>2011-11-30T23:16:27.809-05:00</updated><category term='Radvent'/><title type='text'>The Many Adventures of PJ</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>133</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-802234494387331821</id><published>2011-11-30T23:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T23:16:27.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stationery card</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewWidget" style="width:425px; height:494px;"&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetTop" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/top.gif);"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetCenter" style="height:482px; padding: 0 6px 0 6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bg.gif); background-repeat:repeat-y;"&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewLogo" style="width: 105px; height: 34px; padding: 14px 0 0 14px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/logo.gif" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewContainer" style="height:350px; text-align:center; padding: 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AbN3LFmzbtWbko&amp;amp;cid=SFLYOCWIDGET&amp;amp;eid=115"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/prs/v1/0AbN3LFmzbtWYA/0AbN3LFmzbtWYOLA/p/67b0de21b3127d902548/JPEG/1322712977000/0/" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none;  box-shadow: none;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewMessageContainer" style="height:55px; background-color:#f4f4e9; text-align:center; padding: 15px 0 15px 0; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewTitle" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 15px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Glad Tidings Christmas Card&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewSEOText" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Click &lt;a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards" style="color: #6666cc;"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to browse our Christmas photo card designs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewViewCollection" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;View the entire &lt;a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;"&gt;collection&lt;/a&gt; of cards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img width="1" height="1" border="0" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;" src="https://os.shutterfly.com/b/ss/sflyshareprod/1/H.15/111?pageName=sharekey&amp;c1=msc&amp;c2=blogger" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetBottom" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bottom.gif);"&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/6619725888466336826-802234494387331821?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/802234494387331821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=802234494387331821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/802234494387331821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/802234494387331821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2011/11/stationery-card.html' title='Stationery card'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6232286924631320760</id><published>2010-12-06T20:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T20:48:34.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Freezing!</title><content type='html'>So I'm a few days behind on Radvent.  There are a couple of entries that I wrote in my physical journal.  A love letter to myself and an entry about forgiveness.  The next two entries are a playlist from the year and going on an adventure.  Sadly I didn't have time for an adventure today but I think I can squeeze one in tomorrow.  And I'm working on a playlist.  I'm not sure how to get one up here and what exactly I want to put on it. I have a few ideas.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the mean time it's is freezing cold here.  My fingers are turning blue and I think I'll have to break down and turn the heat up because otherwise I might not be able to get to sleep.  I'm almost finished with a project that just keeps hanging around and I'll be glad when it's done!  Maybe I'll even post some pictures.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also working on Christmas.  I keep making the same list over and over and then realizing I already made that list. It's like part of my brain is just not functioning.  Maybe it's the cold.  Hopefully I'll be able to get a little bit accomplished when I go on my adventure tomorrow.  Oh and it's Matthew's birthday on Thursday...maybe a gift is in that adventure too! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to go try to get warm.   Maybe with some coffee or a down blanket and flannel pjs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6232286924631320760?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6232286924631320760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6232286924631320760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6232286924631320760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6232286924631320760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2010/12/its-freezing.html' title='It&apos;s Freezing!'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4742388073422357852</id><published>2010-12-02T22:18:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T23:04:05.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Radvent Day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhhwLxEFXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/02SOsdiHp6k/s1600/5209696419_62596d353f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhhwLxEFXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/02SOsdiHp6k/s320/5209696419_62596d353f_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546290421526959474" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(89, 89, 89); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(89, 89, 89); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(89, 89, 89); "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(89, 89, 89); "&gt;&lt;h2 style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; color: rgb(80, 156, 180); text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Focus on one drawer, table, or surface today and spend 15 minutes making it pretty! (And take a pretty picture afterward to motivate yourself!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have occasional love affairs with organization. I love a folder with lots of dividers, everything in it's place. But mostly I live in a state of just organized enough. Some of that has to do with having to much stuff, some of that is because I function well in a little bit of a mess and most of the reason revolves around never being able to find anything when everything is put away. The exception to this rule is usually my work space although lately my storage area at work has grown into a BEAST. I meant to tackle that project today but found myself distracted with a box of loveliness that arrived in the morning and then students in the afternoon working on final projects. So, I set out to clean up the bookshelf in my bedroom instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhpl-tBxMI/AAAAAAAAAQg/9Tr0iFoU-2k/s1600/100_0400.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhpl-tBxMI/AAAAAAAAAQg/9Tr0iFoU-2k/s320/100_0400.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546299042314699970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Before Shot 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhplardn0I/AAAAAAAAAQY/MBaj4gdJwQw/s320/100_0399.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546299032644460354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Before Shot 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This book case is in my bedroom.  It is a catch all for just about everything.  It gets out of control quickly and it just stays that way.  It's a complicated system of books because I read a lot.  The books not shelved are waiting to be read.  The books on top are read and waiting to get passed on or put away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhqI1OkrJI/AAAAAAAAAQw/HzdLf1Gx9P8/s1600/100_0402.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhqI1OkrJI/AAAAAAAAAQw/HzdLf1Gx9P8/s1600/100_0402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhqI1OkrJI/AAAAAAAAAQw/HzdLf1Gx9P8/s320/100_0402.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546299641066466450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;After Shot 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhqIuUP28I/AAAAAAAAAQo/8jhtHBM-cQc/s1600/100_0401.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhqIuUP28I/AAAAAAAAAQo/8jhtHBM-cQc/s1600/100_0401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhqIuUP28I/AAAAAAAAAQo/8jhtHBM-cQc/s320/100_0401.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546299639211219906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;After Shot 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;SO MUCH BETTER!  The books on the top are now waiting for the next trip to Goodwill even though I just went today in an effort to clear out some clutter that's been hanging around in the living room.  Some of those books to be read have never peaked my interest enough to actually pick them up so may be it's time to let them go too.  And I went ahead and cleaned up the top of the dresser too.  Maybe cleaning the fan will make it to the to0do list after this weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It feels good to see the shelves again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhhwLxEFXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/02SOsdiHp6k/s1600/5209696419_62596d353f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhhwLxEFXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/02SOsdiHp6k/s1600/5209696419_62596d353f_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6619725888466336826-4742388073422357852?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4742388073422357852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4742388073422357852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4742388073422357852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4742388073422357852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2010/12/radvent-day-2.html' title='Radvent Day 2'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPhhwLxEFXI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/02SOsdiHp6k/s72-c/5209696419_62596d353f_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4368211704476617817</id><published>2010-12-01T20:51:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T21:53:13.418-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Radvent'/><title type='text'>The First Day of Radvent</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPcHjot2-xI/AAAAAAAAAQI/pZNYT69KfUw/s1600/5208131555_6f0efbd689_m-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 185px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPcHjot2-xI/AAAAAAAAAQI/pZNYT69KfUw/s320/5208131555_6f0efbd689_m-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545909774936636178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.princesslasertron.com/"&gt;Radvent Day 1: Remembering&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;What were you doing five years ago today? As the holiday season began? Where were you? Who were you with?  What did you want? What did you have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.princesslasertron.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Five years ago seems like an entire lifetime ago!  December of 2005 I was living in Kentucky.  Richmond, Kentucky to be exact.  Going to school at Eastern Kentucky University.  Weeks before I had learned that it would be my last year as I had my second to last advising appointment and the scheduling elves seemed to have been on my side.  I was dating a guy who would become a very big mistake for me.  At the time though we were blissful and not looking forward to spending the holidays apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;One of the strongest memories I have from this time is building friendships with people that have become such a big part of my life.  We were just getting to know each other and it was exciting to see that we were going to be great friends.  I remember watching my 'nephew' who was really the young son of one of those friends.  And I remember being excited that this couple was going to be having a baby in a few short months!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I know that after the holidays things started to move really fast at school as I was looking for a place to intern and trying desperately not to come home.  I ended up coming home to work at a men's clothing store in town and I can see now that that was for the best.  I wanted so badly to work in merchandising for menswear and I had no idea how to get there.  After that internship I totally changed gears.  The attitude of the people that I was working with had a lot to do with me leaving.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I moved on to the job I have now, which is the best job ever.  It allows me to be creative and work in a place of great freedom with lots of tools.  I love what I'm doing now and I'm sad that the future seems to be holding a move away from this place.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;That mistake of an ex would later move to FL and we got engaged even when I could feel that we were falling apart.  It took a whole year to summon the courage to walk away from that train wreck.  But I gained so much, learned so much about myself and really put myself in a better place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Five years ago I had new friends that are still such a huge part of my life, I had the freedom that comes with college and the fear that comes with seeing the end in sight, I had a loving family, I had a hand to hold.  I wanted to break out, to do something great with my life, to be a success.  I would say that I'm still on that same path except the definition of success seems to be coming into focus a little differently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;-Pamela Joyce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4368211704476617817?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4368211704476617817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4368211704476617817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4368211704476617817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4368211704476617817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2010/12/first-day-of-radvent.html' title='The First Day of Radvent'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPcHjot2-xI/AAAAAAAAAQI/pZNYT69KfUw/s72-c/5208131555_6f0efbd689_m-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2558218796820424755</id><published>2010-11-30T13:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T13:17:36.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Return of Sorts</title><content type='html'>It has been so long since I have written here.  But, I have decided to  blow out the cobwebs and give it another try.  I feel like I have missed  a huge opportunity to be able to go back and look at what I've done in  the past year or two.  It has been amazing and I wish that I could  re-read it for myself. So, with a little help I plan to do my best to  get it together here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been following &lt;a href="http://www.princesslasertron.com"&gt;Princess Lasertron&lt;/a&gt;  for a long time.  I love her blog and her products and her creativity  and her awesomeness.  She became a huge part of my wedding by supplying  all of the parts and pieces to my flowers.  She is doing a blog  journaling project and I figured what better way to jump back in than to  be following a project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.princesslasertron.com"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPU_D-9F2_I/AAAAAAAAAP4/P6y00mtEY6Q/s320/princess%2Blasertron%2Bblog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545407853848026098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, it starts tomorrow.  We'll see what's in store.  I must say I am quite excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pamela Joyce&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2558218796820424755?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2558218796820424755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2558218796820424755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2558218796820424755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2558218796820424755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2010/11/return-of-sorts.html' title='A Return of Sorts'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/TPU_D-9F2_I/AAAAAAAAAP4/P6y00mtEY6Q/s72-c/princess%2Blasertron%2Bblog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5975734018814005744</id><published>2010-02-02T13:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T13:33:59.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Testing 1, 2, 3...&lt;br&gt;Trying out mobile blogging, we&amp;#39;ll see how this goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5975734018814005744?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5975734018814005744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5975734018814005744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5975734018814005744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5975734018814005744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2010/02/testing-1-2-3.html' title=''/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6811714022218165688</id><published>2009-08-12T10:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T10:28:06.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Floating Around</title><content type='html'>So, there is a whole lot floating around in my brain.  I just can't decide how to get all down.  In the mean time, things are good.  Just a couple things left on the dreaded summer to-do list.  Hopefully tomorrow will bring a new bag into existence, going to try out the Multi-Tasker with Home-Dec fabric like it actually calls for and maybe a few extra pockets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School starts in 11 days.  I'm so excited about our season this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to finish the list, woot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6811714022218165688?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6811714022218165688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6811714022218165688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6811714022218165688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6811714022218165688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/08/floating-around.html' title='Floating Around'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5730513277914139152</id><published>2009-08-06T13:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T14:07:57.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beast</title><content type='html'>The things you say are not fair&lt;br /&gt;You attack like a sad political ad&lt;br /&gt;But then, not fair is how it usually is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I did was listen,&lt;br /&gt;I'm aware of other people&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even have to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can say we're not alike&lt;br /&gt;And I might agree with you now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Because&lt;/span&gt; I don't want to be like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fitting how that flows&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure it mutual&lt;br /&gt;Gladly, I'll stay on my side and you on yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't even my idea&lt;br /&gt;I was content to just let it go&lt;br /&gt;to worry silently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on with your dislike&lt;br /&gt;continue with your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disdain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but leave my name and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;character&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5730513277914139152?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5730513277914139152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5730513277914139152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5730513277914139152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5730513277914139152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/08/beast.html' title='Beast'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7372853788679410198</id><published>2009-08-06T11:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T11:23:37.105-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Do I Begin</title><content type='html'>Where do I begin my love?&lt;br /&gt;Starting with the things I haven't said enough of&lt;br /&gt;Starting with the day you changed my life and ending with the way I feel tonight&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I belong if you're not here?&lt;br /&gt;Cause, this is way beyond my darkest fear&lt;br /&gt;Don't know where I end or where I start&lt;br /&gt;Each mile in between is way too far&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always counted all my blessings&lt;br /&gt;Knowing you defend me, stand by my side&lt;br /&gt;If onlyI didn't lose my senses each time I intended these words to come out right&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin my love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe with the morning you brought me the sun&lt;br /&gt;Maybe with the stars from outter space&lt;br /&gt;You took a few and lit up my face&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always counted all my blessings&lt;br /&gt;Knowing you defend me, stand by my side&lt;br /&gt;If only I didn't lose my senses each time I intended for these words to come out right&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin my love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always read the last page instead of the first one&lt;br /&gt;There's no need to rush it all in&lt;br /&gt;I love you and I'll say it again&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin?&lt;br /&gt;Where do I begin?&lt;br /&gt;Now where should we begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Idina Menzel, Where Do I Begin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7372853788679410198?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7372853788679410198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7372853788679410198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7372853788679410198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7372853788679410198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/08/where-do-i-begin.html' title='Where Do I Begin'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6542745859208771146</id><published>2009-08-05T11:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T11:04:04.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Different Perspective</title><content type='html'>Recently, in large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tanned woman appeared in the window of a gym. &lt;br /&gt;It said:¨THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?¨&lt;br /&gt;A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.&lt;br /&gt;To Whom It May Concern:&lt;br /&gt;Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans).  They have an active sex life, they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales.  They have a wonderful time with the dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp.  They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Bering Seaand the coral reefs of Polynesia . Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs.  They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans.  They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.&lt;br /&gt;Mermaids, on the other hand, don’t exist.  If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to their identity crisis’s:  are they fish or human?  They don’t have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them.  Not to mention how could they have sex?  Therefore they don’t have kids either.  Not to mention who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?&lt;br /&gt;The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.&lt;br /&gt;P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a coffee with my friends.  With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies.  So we aren’t heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy.  Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, “Good gosh, look how smart I am”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*reposted from a private diarist*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6542745859208771146?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6542745859208771146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6542745859208771146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6542745859208771146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6542745859208771146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/08/different-perspective.html' title='A Different Perspective'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4390241755496224889</id><published>2009-06-01T17:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T17:21:43.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>tip me over and pour me out</title><content type='html'>You know that feeling you get when everything is right, and good and you suddenly feel like you want things that don't really matter or that you don't really want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter the thoughts rattling about in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been hectic lately.  I've been very busy and still bored.  Happy but somehow still discontent.  I feel like someone needs to shake me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to scream, that it's not fair.  But what is it that isn't fair?  I want to not have to wait for what is coming to me if I just would have the patience.  I know that growing those patience will do me good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ARGH&lt;/span&gt;!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to study for a test tomorrow....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4390241755496224889?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4390241755496224889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4390241755496224889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4390241755496224889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4390241755496224889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/06/tip-me-over-and-pour-me-out.html' title='tip me over and pour me out'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6733766779899637453</id><published>2009-05-20T09:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T09:11:52.377-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise</title><content type='html'>You know that thing about not liking surprises.  Well now you know that the reason I hate them so much is because they make me feel like poo before.  I really thought that you had forgotten me.  That I was just out of sight out of mind.  That I haven't asked you to come visit because I know that you have been busy.  That I've spent EVERY weekend for the past two months in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Apopka&lt;/span&gt;, even though I have tons to do at my house to get ready to move, because I didn't have the heart to ask you to come visit me because I was trying to make things easier.  To hear that you had an entire day off that you filled with plans without even asking about me really hurt.  More than I could ever explain to you.  I tried really hard not to be upset.  I know that you have family and friends who need to spend time with you.  I know that they don't see you very often because of work and school.  I was really trying to be understanding, to quell the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;outrageous&lt;/span&gt; feeling of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;loneliness&lt;/span&gt;.  I just needed to not talk to you because the more I did the harder it was and the more upset I got.  It's hard to feel forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you woke me up, I didn't want to hear that you were coming here.  I was sure that my attitude had made you change your mind and I didn't want to be your second thought.  More than that I didn't want to have an attitude, or to be upset at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, your coming.  SURPRISE!!!!  So why do I still feel like poo?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6733766779899637453?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6733766779899637453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6733766779899637453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6733766779899637453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6733766779899637453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/05/surprise.html' title='Surprise'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4963673191753433589</id><published>2009-04-29T14:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T14:46:31.339-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Then</title><content type='html'>I remember, trying not to stare the night that I first met you&lt;br /&gt;You had me mesmerized&lt;br /&gt;And three weeks later, in the front porch light&lt;br /&gt;Taking forty-five minutes to kiss goodnight&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't told you yet&lt;br /&gt;But I thought I loved you then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you're my whole life&lt;br /&gt;Now you're my whole world&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe the way I feel about you girl&lt;br /&gt;Like a river meets the sea, stronger than it's ever been.&lt;br /&gt;We've come so far since that day&lt;br /&gt;And I thought I loved you then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I remember, taking you back to right where I first met you,&lt;br /&gt;You were so surprised&lt;br /&gt;There were people around, but I didn't care&lt;br /&gt;Got down on one knee right there&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I thought I loved you then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you're my whole life&lt;br /&gt;Now you're my whole world&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe the way I feel about you girl&lt;br /&gt;Like a river meets the sea, stronger than it's ever been.&lt;br /&gt;We've come so far since that day&lt;br /&gt;And I thought I loved you then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could just see you, with a baby on the way&lt;br /&gt;And I could just see you, when your hair is turning gray&lt;br /&gt;What I can't see is how&lt;br /&gt;I'm ever gonna love you more&lt;br /&gt;But I've said that before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you're my whole life&lt;br /&gt;Now you're my whole world&lt;br /&gt;I just can't believe the way I feel about you girl&lt;br /&gt;We'll look back someday, at this moment that we're in&lt;br /&gt;And I'll look at you and say&lt;br /&gt;And I thought I loved you then&lt;br /&gt;And I thought I loved you then&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4963673191753433589?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4963673191753433589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4963673191753433589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4963673191753433589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4963673191753433589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/04/then.html' title='Then'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2692595855802637813</id><published>2009-03-24T14:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T14:32:25.249-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Hiding</title><content type='html'>I'm in a kind of funk lately.  I was looking forward to being on the go at 100 MPH again.  Now, not looking like that is going to be happening.  For the time being I have to figure out how to not be looking at the end of my five year plan and wishing it was tomorrow.  Is it cliche to say that my biggest problem right now is not having a problem?  Sure life isn't perfect but I don't feel like I have a tangible goal at the moment.  It's kind of suffocating to not where I'm going.  I've always had a direction.  I feel directionless, like I'm wandering with only a vague idea of the end of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder daily if my life will always feel so incomplete.  I'm bored, but not sure what to do.  I should be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-cluttering, in preparation for moving, but there is no fun in that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling itchy to do something crafty.  I don't know what to do though.  Part of me would really like to tackle my office/craft room.  Getting that organized and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-cluttered could be really good for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a major to-do list.  The problem is that every time I make the list I only accomplish half of the the objectives and then I lose interest.  I'm going to need to buckle down and finish if I have any hope of being organised enough to move directly after a week away from home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, while I have a short term goal, this whole moving thing, I feel like I'm without any real sense of what to accomplish in the next year or so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2692595855802637813?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2692595855802637813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2692595855802637813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2692595855802637813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2692595855802637813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-hiding.html' title='I&apos;m Hiding'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3076668542249644582</id><published>2009-02-13T10:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T10:49:26.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Angry</title><content type='html'>Maybe it's just me.  Maybe, I'm seeing some misrepresented portion of the media.  I really hope that's the case but, I fear that it's not.  I'd like to say here that I'm an independent.  I'm not registered to either party and I don't care to be.  What I can't seem to wrap my head around is how last fall Republicans were chomping at the bit to spend nearly a trillion dollars on big banks that greedily got in over their heads and pulled the rest of us down with them, but now aren't the least bit interested in spending money to help the average American become employed and less dependent on environmentally unfriendly energy sources.  Really!  John McCain was reported to have said that this bill is to big yet, he is the one who pushed for big spending for banks that got the money but have yet to do anything with it to help unfreeze the credit markets, instead just adding it to the balance sheet and letting it sit.  I'm so tired of the sore loser mentality of the republican party.  Get over yourselves already!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing.  Obama isn't racist, at least not in the way some people are claiming.  I know several people that have been affected by the snow and ice storms in KY and they are screaming that no one is acting to help them.  Some of them keep blaming Obama and saying that he doesn't want to help the white republicans who didn't vote for him.  Let's get something straight here.   Stop comparing your ice storm to Hurricane Katrina.  Yeah you were without power and yeah some people have suffered damage to their homes.  But the number of people who died is significantly lower.  Yes, you have been touched by a natural disaster and you should be getting some relief.  If you're not, get off your loud, lousy complaining butt and contact the people that can help you.  The local government, your senator or representative.  Stop complaining on facebook that the country, by overwhelming (compared to the past 2 elections) majority, elected a racist black guy who could care less about you poor suffering white republicans who didn't vote for him.  People like you are part of the problem with racism today not part of the solution. &lt;br /&gt;p.s.  Those who were most majorly affected in Hurricane Katrina were not white.  They pulled the race card on Bush and you jumped to his defense saying that wasn't the case.  So, let's use that same logic here.  Perhaps there are other issues at play here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not exactly a fan of yet another HUGE spending package.  But, if the government can bail out Wall Street and their greed they can surely spend an equal amount trying to make jobs and improve the lives of it's average citizen.  Who knows what's actually in the bill, where the money will actually go or if it will actually help.  But I have to pray that something will make a difference and we can start to dig out of the mess that we are in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3076668542249644582?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3076668542249644582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3076668542249644582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3076668542249644582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3076668542249644582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/02/angry.html' title='Angry'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6441310312693966183</id><published>2009-01-29T16:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T16:10:24.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a weird week</title><content type='html'>It's been a weird week.  I've been making pro-con lists that would make Rory Gilmore proud.  So far a decision hasn't been made.  I keep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thinking&lt;/span&gt; that maybe I'll feel differently when I have more information.  As it stands right now, I don't know what to do.  Last night I realized that one of the my biggest fears is being seen as a disappointment if I choose not to go.  In that same thought I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;afraid&lt;/span&gt; that later I'll see myself as a disappointment.  All I know is that I have no idea.  This kind of indecision is not good for me.  It drives me to the point of distraction, and near depression.  I don't want to give up on this, but I think that I'm in need of two fully &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;functional&lt;/span&gt; plans.  Maybe it will get better soon.  Maybe I'll be able to figure something out.  In time this will all play out and I'll look back here and chuckle at my impatient self, until then I'll just drive myself up the wall of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;loony&lt;/span&gt; bin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6441310312693966183?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6441310312693966183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6441310312693966183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6441310312693966183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6441310312693966183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/01/weird-week.html' title='a weird week'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2880168619169537046</id><published>2009-01-27T11:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T11:39:49.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*shrugs shoulers*</title><content type='html'>I feel like I keep having this conversation with myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you be upset if you don't get in to grad school?&lt;br /&gt;*shrugs shoulders*&lt;br /&gt;What do you really want to do?&lt;br /&gt;*shrugs shoulders*&lt;br /&gt;What will you do after grad school?&lt;br /&gt;*shrugs shoulders*&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather stay here?&lt;br /&gt;*shrugs shoulders*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I can't get a straight answer.  I never imagined how incredibly frustrating this would feel.  It's like my brain is pretending to be two years old or something.  Maybe it's on auto pilot in an effort to not stress over the fact that it has now been 3 months since I sent in my application and I've yet to here anything back.  I'm nervous.  The contingency plan was never supposed to actually be the plan but I find myself spending more time working out how it could actually work.  Maybe that's bad, I have no idea.  My heart just doesn't feel like it's in it anymore.  I'm discouraged and frustrated at the same time.  That's a hard place to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2880168619169537046?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2880168619169537046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2880168619169537046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2880168619169537046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2880168619169537046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/01/shrugs-shoulers.html' title='*shrugs shoulers*'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5693893705008641537</id><published>2009-01-15T11:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T11:52:31.078-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Something you may not know</title><content type='html'>A change seems to be taking place in me. I seem to be headed in a modified direction. Still going in the same general direction just, a more definite way. I don't know it's really hard to explain. All I can say is that I think I'm ready, but really you just never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the weekend I talked to Matthew about why he isn't a member of his own church. I think that maybe I might have been able to help him see that there is no time like the present. In talking to him I sort of realized that I've done the exact same things in my life. I keep putting off deciding think that at some point I'll have more time to read and really comprehend to the best of my ability. So, in an effort to take a bit of my own advice I'm on my way to reading through the Bible and trying to at least be able to understand in some chronological order how these things came to pass. I sort of feel really behind the ball and like I'm running to catch up but, I'm giving it my best effort and that's all I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this leads to a conversation had last night about my complete and utter impatience. I have never been a patient person. I need lots of distractions when I have to wait for things and currently nothing is big enough to distract me from thinking about the possible directions my life could be headed in August. So, Matthew says to me patience is a virtue and I snap back one I have never possessed. And then he replies, Well maybe God is trying to teach you to be patient. I suppose that I have never looked at it that way. Maybe he is right. All I know is that for some reason today I feel less restless and that even though not knowing is a huge pain I can sort of still function.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The design process for R.U.R. has been sort of delayed. The original vision didn't really line up with the people who got cast and now the designs are being re-worked so we are in a holding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pattern&lt;/span&gt; in the shop. So, maybe this afternoon I'll get another section done on my quilt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5693893705008641537?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5693893705008641537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5693893705008641537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5693893705008641537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5693893705008641537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/01/something-you-may-not-know.html' title='Something you may not know'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6248386773861237736</id><published>2009-01-14T15:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T11:41:44.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck!!</title><content type='html'>Ever have a day when you feel utterly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stuck&lt;/span&gt; in your own life. Not a bad kind of stuck, just stuck. Like I have so many things on my plate but I can't touch any of them right now. I just want to know the decisions and move on with my life. But that's not going to happen for some time I fear. Oh and there is the whole issue of what's going on in years 4 and 5 of the five year plan. Could someone please invent some sort of filter that lets you only see past the next 6 months when you need to and not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; you're being all whimsical and teary eyed over everyone you know getting married in the last year, save one, okay maybe three. The others were already married so they don't count. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Grrrrrrrrrrrrr&lt;/span&gt;!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off I go to pout about my life being a big huge tease and nobody being able to do a single thing about it. On a bright note, pork roast for dinner. Now that's something that I can really look forward to....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pshhhh&lt;/span&gt; who am I kidding that doesn't hold a candle to planning your imaginary wedding with an endless budget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6248386773861237736?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6248386773861237736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6248386773861237736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6248386773861237736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6248386773861237736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/01/stuck.html' title='Stuck!!'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8581383875708131987</id><published>2009-01-06T11:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T11:28:00.456-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now, to be resolute</title><content type='html'>My new year's resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Keep my kitchen clean&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go through all of my boxes before I move again&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finish my TAW quilt top by the time I move&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be better at sticking to my budget&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Keep up with my blogs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Walk every day for at least 20 minutes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fit into the dress on the door by Dec.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, 7 resolutions shouldn't be to hard to keep.  What blows my budget every month is fast food.  In order to accomplish fitting into the dress I have to cut out the fast food.  Walking everyday should help with this too.  I hate cleaning the kitchen when it gets really yucky so I'm hopeing tackling it daily will prevent having to clean it on the weekend.  Hopefully, in July, I'll be moving to Baton Rouge, LA to start graduate school.  This means downsizing a whole lot so I need to go through everything that I have.  Lastly, I've been working on this TAW quilt off and on for nearly two years.  I'd like to get it done so I can enjoy it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do an okay job of keeping this blog up to date but I now have two others to keep track of too.  My craft blog can be found at &lt;a href="http://pjcraftfun.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://pjcraftfun.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;  I hope to do a better job at photographing my craft work and posting it there.  The holdiay season went by with nearly everyone on my list getting some sort of gift I worked on and I now have no picutres of those projects.  Grrr!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also, I created a new blog to track this new lifestyle change.  &lt;a href="http://52to52lessofpj.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://52to52lessofpj.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;  I'll work at putting some progress photos up in the near future and also some recipes that I really really love and are pretty healthy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, here's to a new year full of lots of fun.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8581383875708131987?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8581383875708131987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8581383875708131987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8581383875708131987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8581383875708131987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/01/now-to-be-resolute.html' title='Now, to be resolute'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5427921932030929311</id><published>2009-01-05T15:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T15:03:13.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Work</title><content type='html'>I have some catching up to do here.  It's the 5th of January and there have been no posts here in nearly a month.  I've been home for the holidays and far to busy to even think about updating my blog.  I have some great photos to share and a few thoughts too.  I'll work on putting it all together tonight as I am trying to finish up my pre-semester to-do list today.  I hope everyone had an awesome holiday season and cheers to a great and happy new year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5427921932030929311?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5427921932030929311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5427921932030929311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5427921932030929311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5427921932030929311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-to-work.html' title='Back to Work'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8093233398091443344</id><published>2008-12-18T00:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T00:51:09.827-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How to be Happy</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I'm amazed at how easy it is to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have to struggle with it, I just think of all the wonderful things in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's easier now that the people that I work with are so happy, so I don't feel like I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rubbing&lt;/span&gt; my happiness in their faces.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just floating along in a cloud of imaginary, fairy tale life and the grey cloud of rain that is real life is coming one day.&lt;br /&gt;At &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;any rate&lt;/span&gt;, I don't really care &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;for now, today until I don't know when,&lt;br /&gt;I'm really happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8093233398091443344?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8093233398091443344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8093233398091443344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8093233398091443344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8093233398091443344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-to-be-happy.html' title='How to be Happy'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6453231043841937217</id><published>2008-12-16T15:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T15:24:44.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Favorite</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rascal Flatts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's a place I've been lookin' for &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That took me in and out of buildings &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Behind windows, walls, and doors &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I thought I found it &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Couple times, even settled down &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'd hang around just long enough &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To find my way back out &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know now the place that I was trying to reach &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Was you, right here in front of me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I wouldn't change a thing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'd walk right back through the rain &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Back to every broken heart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On the day that it was breakin' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'd relive all the years &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And be thankful for the tears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've cried with every stumbled step &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That led to you and got me here, right here &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's amazing what I let my heart go through &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To get me where it got me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In this moment here with you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it passed me by &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;God knows how many times &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was so caught up in holding &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What I never thought I'd find &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know now, there's a million roads I had to take &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To get me in your arms this way &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I wouldn't change a thing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'd walk right back through the rain &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Back to every broken heart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On the day that it was breakin' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'd relive all the years &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And be thankful for the tears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've cried with every stumbled step &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That led to you and got me here &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In a love I never thought I'd get to get to - here &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And if thats the road &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;God made me take to be with you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I wouldn't change a thing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'd walk right back through the rain &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Back to every broken heart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On the day that it was breakin' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'd relive all the years &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And be thankful for the tears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've cried with every stumbled step &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That led to you and got me here &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'd relive all the years &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And be thankful for the tears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've cried with every stumbled step &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That led to you and got me here, right here &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, baby - Ooo &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, got me here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6453231043841937217?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6453231043841937217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6453231043841937217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6453231043841937217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6453231043841937217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-favorite.html' title='A New Favorite'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5242398310034141561</id><published>2008-11-18T16:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T16:43:02.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scared...or just plain crazy</title><content type='html'>Sometimes things in my mind get really out of control.  If you know me, you know this means being either really grumpy and vocal about it or really closed off and quite about it.  Neither of those options is particularly good for anyone but that's just how it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I feel really overwhelmed.  Things are at a really good place right now.  I shouldn't feel overwhelmed.  Nearly everything is perfect.  The job is good, great really.  I'm healthy, I'm loved, everyone I know is doing okay.  So, why am I overwhelmed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got the courage to send in my application for grad school.  They sent me back a few emails and I am officially in their system and that's pretty darn cool.  I've been having terrible mixed feelings about this whole thing.  In Feb. I was bored, and mad and tired of being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;talked&lt;/span&gt; to like I was dirt on the floor by certain people.  School seemed like an AWESOME idea.  Then...things got really good here.  I pulled out of the funk that I was in and the proverbial sun came out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I think back to how hard it was to move away from my family the first time.  I just talked my sister through this mess in August.  I don't want to admit that I'm not strong enough to do it again so I keep hoping that as it comes closer I feel better about it.  I promised myself that I would do everything I can to make it to grad school.  But, if I wasn't excited when I started to hear back that it wasn't the right place for me.  I can't tell you how excited I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;when&lt;/span&gt; I opened my email and had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; the info back from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;LSU&lt;/span&gt;.  I guess for now we'll go with it's still what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are changing here...FAST.  Some cool things are happening at work.  Going to school now is a good thing, probably the best thing that I can do for myself.  Hopefully...maybe...crossing my fingers I'll be able to come back here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find this whole circle of events funny.  I wanted so badly to leave after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt;.  It was hard but I made it and made lifelong friendships in the process.  Then, I wanted so badly not to come back.  Now I'm back and even though I'll have to leave for a bit I'm sort of excited at the prospect of being able to come back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much going on, so much to think about.  I'm glad that I've been given the gift of being able to multi-task. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pamela Joyce&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5242398310034141561?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5242398310034141561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5242398310034141561' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5242398310034141561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5242398310034141561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/11/scaredor-just-plain-crazy.html' title='Scared...or just plain crazy'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2544815860040853533</id><published>2008-11-07T13:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:54:35.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Re:Birthday Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SRSN6fdVbgI/AAAAAAAAAMg/I2ZtP4VxXlU/s1600-h/Birthday+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265989900319419906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SRSN6fdVbgI/AAAAAAAAAMg/I2ZtP4VxXlU/s320/Birthday+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me and B-day Cake &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265989902347513682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SRSN6nA3r1I/AAAAAAAAAMo/X0M28hUnHoE/s320/Birthday+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;aparently cutting cake takes major consentration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265989912467069202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SRSN7Mtj2RI/AAAAAAAAAMw/n4mUX3jGLLg/s320/Birthday+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;"Are you really sure that you want all of that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265989915822771666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SRSN7ZNnzdI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Lz8uZuShl7s/s320/Birthday+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;My dad's face here is priceless!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yay, pictures of cake!!  Hope everyone has a delightful weekend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Pamela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2544815860040853533?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2544815860040853533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2544815860040853533' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2544815860040853533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2544815860040853533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/11/rebirthday-photos.html' title='Re:Birthday Photos'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SRSN6fdVbgI/AAAAAAAAAMg/I2ZtP4VxXlU/s72-c/Birthday+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5443339714847895304</id><published>2008-10-29T11:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T11:47:49.418-04:00</updated><title type='text'>complain, complain, complain</title><content type='html'>America is like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt;.  Low price, cheap goods.  I'm so sick and tired of hearing people complain about their country.  Really, do you realize what you have.  Do you realize that you choose for it to be this way.  Sure you might not have signed up for an 800 billion dollar bail out.  But, you elected the people who did. &lt;br /&gt;This morning on the radio some the show was having a call in about the problems and issues facing Americans.  Most people have had it up to their noses with this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;financial&lt;/span&gt; crisis which I can very much understand, I'm in the same boat.  Other people though are so stupid!  They &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;complain&lt;/span&gt; about our education system not being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;competitive&lt;/span&gt; in the global market and how we have the lowest quality of life for developed countries.  Really!  How great of you to notice. So what are you going to do about it? &lt;br /&gt;Nobody want to face the answer that seems so obvious.&lt;br /&gt;You want better education.  You want better health care.  You want better public services.  You want the road to be drivable and not full of holes.  You want the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;environment&lt;/span&gt; to be protected.  Those are all fine things to want.  They are also things that cost lots of money.  Money that the government just doesn't have.  You want it to get better?  Start calling your representatives in favor of actions that raise your taxes a little and thus raise the money for these projects. &lt;br /&gt;When you look at other countries and what they pay to live there you'll see.  We are the W&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;almart&lt;/span&gt; of the world.  You get what you pay for.  If you want something better then do something about.  Call people that can make the change, not your local radio station.  And, if you aren't wiling to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sacrifice&lt;/span&gt; to make it better than quit your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bitchin&lt;/span&gt;'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5443339714847895304?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5443339714847895304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5443339714847895304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5443339714847895304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5443339714847895304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/10/complain-complain-complain.html' title='complain, complain, complain'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-112999987406602759</id><published>2008-10-24T12:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T12:43:47.483-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An update?</title><content type='html'>I dpn't know what I want to say.  Surely there is something wtty or pleasant floating around in the depths of my mind that I could put here.  Instead, I keep sitting here staring at the blank screen willing it to fill with the meaingful events of the past few weeks.  Maybe bullet points would be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The musical went really well.  The laundry is still upstairs.  We should really call in the student workers to get some of that done and put away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The 16th came and went.  I treated myself to dinner out that night.  Found out that something are never going to change.  I am so glad that Katy messaged me, even though it flooded me with anger to know that he is still doing nothing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Amanda's bachelorette party was awesome.   There are great pics floating around and I'm going to do my best to round them up and make a nice little gift for her.  By the way, nearly all of the pictures are not going to be posted here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* This week I made a new dress for my birthday.  I'll probably post some of the pictures on the craft blog.  I haven't updated there in ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Sunday is my birthday.  I'm having a small get together.  It's going to be really fun I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Tonight I'm going on a date.  It'll be nice to be spoiled on a Friday night.  These outings don't happen to often when I don't go to Orlando for the weekend so it's nice to have a special treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that about wraps it up for me.  Hope everyone is doing well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-112999987406602759?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/112999987406602759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=112999987406602759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/112999987406602759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/112999987406602759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/10/update.html' title='An update?'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8625698338060825644</id><published>2008-10-15T16:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:51:02.014-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stronger</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow I will be the stronger person.  I'll get out of bed.  I'll hold my head up high and I will be stronger.  I'm not sure how I'll feel but I know it will be kind of weird.  I'm so happy now, and I wouldn't change any of this except to say that I wish that I had done it earlier and even then it worked out just fine the way it happened.  Tomorrow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note....eeeek I'm so excited for this weekend!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8625698338060825644?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8625698338060825644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8625698338060825644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8625698338060825644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8625698338060825644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/10/stronger.html' title='Stronger'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5259325335040529754</id><published>2008-10-08T14:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T14:49:09.518-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why My Mind Wanders</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why my mind goes here but I wonder sometimes.  I wonder why you did the things that you did.  I wonder how I let my guard down so far that I couldn't see you for who you were.  More than that I wonder how we got to where we were and why I never saw the warning signs.  I wanted so badly to believe that everything was going to be okay.  I knew in my heart that you could never be the person that I needed you to be.  I knew that you were never going to get past the end of your own nose.  So, tell me then why I still think of you.  Why, when things are going so well for me right now do you creep back into my heart and burn my eyes with those tears?  I don't ask about you.  It had been months since you had crossed my mind.  Then suddenly, everywhere I turned you were there.  I heard stories about you from several people.  I had memories that I never wanted to remember drudged from the depths of my memory. Why do people think that it's okay to do that?  Why do they think that I care?  Why do I care?  Why?  Now I am just a week from our anniversary and I want so badly to just skip the day.  You'll be 24 this year and still living like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rebellious&lt;/span&gt; 14 year old.  I don't know if you read this, a couple of people from G-Town stop by every once and awhile and you may just be one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some things that you might like to know:&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy.  Really happy.&lt;br /&gt;I took the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;GRE&lt;/span&gt; and I'm working on going back to school&lt;br /&gt;I'm okay.  I realize now that you brought out the worst possible person in me and that you could never meet my needs. &lt;br /&gt;I've found someone really awesome.&lt;br /&gt;We fit like long lost puzzle pieces.&lt;br /&gt;He takes very good care of me.&lt;br /&gt;He brings out the best in me.&lt;br /&gt;Riley is well.  He's so smart now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5259325335040529754?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5259325335040529754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5259325335040529754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5259325335040529754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5259325335040529754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-my-mind-wanders.html' title='Why My Mind Wanders'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7424537075144088534</id><published>2008-10-07T17:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T18:49:10.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This will not become a survey blog</title><content type='html'>1. When you were fourteen, who was your favorite band?&lt;br /&gt;Probably something really geeky, I really don't know though&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you repeat yourself often and not realize it?&lt;br /&gt;Most likely, I vocalize my thoughts a lot and I know that I think the same things often&lt;br /&gt;3. Are you afraid of becoming middle-aged?&lt;br /&gt;Not really&lt;br /&gt;4. What are seven things you couldn't live without?&lt;br /&gt;Family, friends, books, music, learning, a creative outlet, words&lt;br /&gt;5. What if the furthest you've traveled?&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in Europe but, I'm not working out the mileage&lt;br /&gt;6. Can you say the alphabet backwards?&lt;br /&gt;If I think about it really hard&lt;br /&gt;7. Have you ever worked with acid during a science experiment?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;8. Have you ever seen or do you ever want to see an opera? If so, which one?&lt;br /&gt;I think I've seen one, but I don't really remember&lt;br /&gt;9. Do you know a woman named Wanda?&lt;br /&gt;No. Should I?&lt;br /&gt;10. What is your favorite thing to do for fun on the weekends?&lt;br /&gt;I live for Sunday's with Matthew and anything I do with him is always fun&lt;br /&gt;11. Do you ever listen to songs and music in different languages?&lt;br /&gt;It depends on my mood&lt;br /&gt;12. Have you ever tried drugs? If so, which ones?&lt;br /&gt;Sure, but then that's really none of your business is it&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you like the sun or the clouds better?&lt;br /&gt;I like them together, nice puffy white clouds in a bright blue sky with the sun peaking out, I'm such a 5 year old crayon drawing&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you think love at first sight is really lust at first sight?&lt;br /&gt;Most likely&lt;br /&gt;15. What is a material possession you would have difficulty giving up?&lt;br /&gt;My collection of wardrobe things, shoes, clothes, purses all of that&lt;br /&gt;16. What do you really want to do right now?&lt;br /&gt;Hug my boyfriend, that's so simple but he's so far away and it's only going to get worse&lt;br /&gt;17. Would you rather make love or have sex?&lt;br /&gt;make love&lt;br /&gt;18. Name something that is full of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;19. What is your favorite memory from your childhood?&lt;br /&gt;I have so many, I could never just pick one&lt;br /&gt;20. Would you rather have knowledge or wisdom? Or do you think the two go hand-in-hand?&lt;br /&gt;I think they go hand in hand and would love to have both&lt;br /&gt;21. What is your favorite thing to do when you're alone?&lt;br /&gt;Read...read read read&lt;br /&gt;22. Have you ever donated cans to a charity for the poor?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;23. At what age is the best for you to have a baby?&lt;br /&gt;So far the five year plan just barely includes starting to try to have children...but then that also implies a lot of other things...wow that shows how much of a planner I am&lt;br /&gt;24. When you bring a friend to hang out with one of your other friends who they don't know, do you sometimes forget to introduce them?&lt;br /&gt;Sadly yes&lt;br /&gt;25. Did you think the remake of the Amityville horror was better, just as good, or worse than the original?&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen either&lt;br /&gt;26. Do you know a guy with a name that typically is used for a girl?&lt;br /&gt;Not that I know of&lt;br /&gt;27. Are you religious? Do you believe in prayer?&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I fit the "religious" mold but I do believe in prayer.&lt;br /&gt;28. Do you have a guardian angel? If so, who is it?&lt;br /&gt;My Dad's dad, but he's busy now and I haven't seen him in awhile&lt;br /&gt;29. What is one thing that angers you the most when it comes to relationships?&lt;br /&gt;My being so spoiled...really it drives me to the point of madness because then I expect it and that just isn't fair&lt;br /&gt;30. How often do you go to the bathroom each day?&lt;br /&gt;Enough&lt;br /&gt;31. What three places in the world do you want to travel to?&lt;br /&gt;England, Australia, Germany&lt;br /&gt;32. Do you wear hats? If so, what sort of hats do you wear?&lt;br /&gt;I have the worst hat head ever&lt;br /&gt;33. Are you feeling any pressure right now? If so, from what?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, from myself about school and if it's going to work out&lt;br /&gt;34. Do you enjoy the rain?&lt;br /&gt;Usually, as long as it isn't scary&lt;br /&gt;35. Is there a threat of tropical disasters (hurricanes, monsoons, etc.) where you live?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, how terrifying and even more so when you aren't home and have no idea what is going on at your house and you can't call anyone because no one knows and yeah...I was a nervous wreck&lt;br /&gt;36. Have you ever run into a door?&lt;br /&gt;Just today on my way through the dressing room today&lt;br /&gt;37. What do you think of teased hair?&lt;br /&gt;Why!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;38. If you had the chance to skydive, would you?&lt;br /&gt;Depends on a long list of things&lt;br /&gt;39. When it comes to bands, do you find the singer more attractive or the guitarist?&lt;br /&gt;Instrument makes no difference&lt;br /&gt;40. Do you like classic cars?&lt;br /&gt;Pretty&lt;br /&gt;41. What is the first thing you think when you see a person wearing a leather jacket?&lt;br /&gt;Well first off does it fit, then what does it look like because that makes the difference between hot and ewww&lt;br /&gt;42. Do you find dreadlocks sexy or disgusting?&lt;br /&gt;disgusting&lt;br /&gt;43. If you had the power to freeze time, what would you do with that power?&lt;br /&gt;mmmmm...I could think of so much&lt;br /&gt;44. What is your life motto?&lt;br /&gt;I plan, I don't have a motto&lt;br /&gt;45. What color are your toenails painted?&lt;br /&gt;Orange, in the spirit of fall and my most favorite holiday&lt;br /&gt;46. Do you listen to orchestra tributes to your favorite band?&lt;br /&gt;ummm, no&lt;br /&gt;47. When was the last time you cried? What was the reason? Did you feel ridiculous for crying afterwards?&lt;br /&gt;Not to long ago, I'm sure it was about having to leave and no I did not feel ridiculous&lt;br /&gt;48. Would you consider yourself more of a leader or a follower?&lt;br /&gt;Depends on the group&lt;br /&gt;49. Do you find it annoying when someone is too sarcastic?&lt;br /&gt;I am best friends with the president of the sarcasm society of the world, I only find it annoying when people take the sarcastic thing seriously&lt;br /&gt;50. What do you do to cure your headaches?&lt;br /&gt;Take some non-aspirin, un-coated pain reliever and drink loads of water&lt;br /&gt;51. Have you ever thought of running away?&lt;br /&gt;No, not really&lt;br /&gt;52. Do you own diamond jewelry? Yes, but I have no earthly idea what to do with it because it meant something once and now I just have it and I don't want to wear it in any form really but I don't want to sell it either because then whatever I buy will be tainted by the memory so for now it sits in the safety deposit box&lt;br /&gt;53. Have you ever dated the same person more than once? Did you regret it afterwards?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, when I was in high school and that never ended well&lt;br /&gt;54. Have you ever ridden a horse?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;55. Has anyone ever called you a "bitch." Was it deserved?&lt;br /&gt;Yes and probably sometimes deserved and sometimes not&lt;br /&gt;56. Were you scared the first time you drove?&lt;br /&gt;Terrified&lt;br /&gt;57. Do you eat your apples with the skin still on or do you peel it off?&lt;br /&gt;I do my best to not eat apples unless they are in pie&lt;br /&gt;58. Name five of your obsessions:&lt;br /&gt;Books, Music, Handbags (made or bought), Clothes, Shoes&lt;br /&gt;59. Have you ever shot a gun?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;60. Do you like rap/hip-hop music? If so, do you like the beats or the lyrics better?&lt;br /&gt;Not really&lt;br /&gt;61. What is a lie you've told that made you feel bad after telling it?&lt;br /&gt;Why would I call myself out?&lt;br /&gt;62. Have you ever watched the sun rise?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;63. Would you rather swim in the ocean or a pool?&lt;br /&gt;I'll only really swim where I can see the bottom&lt;br /&gt;64. When did you learn how to ride a bike? Who taught you?&lt;br /&gt;I was young like 5 or six and I wasn't allowed to go off the street that we lived on, my Daddy of course&lt;br /&gt;65. Do you believe in aliens?&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;66. Do you know a homophobe? Are you friends with them?&lt;br /&gt;A few, I think I might be friends with one and that scares me a little bit&lt;br /&gt;67. Do you think polygamy should be legal?&lt;br /&gt;Not after reading The 19th Wife, even if it was fiction I could imagine that it could be worse than that&lt;br /&gt;68. When you wake up, do you hear birds chirping?&lt;br /&gt;Not usually&lt;br /&gt;69. Have you ever seen an animal eat another animal? On TV or in real life?&lt;br /&gt;In real life&lt;br /&gt;70. Have you ever uttered the phrase, "Bitch, please?" Why'd you say it?&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know for sure, If I did I was probably being funny in the moment&lt;br /&gt;71. Are you bitter about anything?&lt;br /&gt;I try not to be but sometimes it creeps up before I can catch it&lt;br /&gt;72. What do you think of brown belts with black shoes?&lt;br /&gt;People come on just buy two belts already!!!!&lt;br /&gt;73. What is the craziest hairstyle or haircut you have ever seen?&lt;br /&gt;I've seen some pretty bad ones, we'll leave it at that&lt;br /&gt;74. Have you ever got a blister? If so, where did you get it from?&lt;br /&gt;I have had them in lots of places for ex. on my hand from bowling or that one time I tried to steam my skin off with the deep fryer and on my feet from shoes of course&lt;br /&gt;75. What color blush do you wear?&lt;br /&gt;A pretty pink one, when I' in the mood for blush&lt;br /&gt;76. Do you believe every person was put on this earth for a pre-destined reason or do you believe that you create your destiny through your actions?&lt;br /&gt;I think that pre-destination is a factor but I also think the path you choose has a lot to do with how things turn out for you and that in the end your choices define who you become&lt;br /&gt;77. Is there a person who used to make you happy that you can no longer stand? If so, who is it?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Benjamin&lt;br /&gt;78. Would you find deep-sea fishing exciting?&lt;br /&gt;Probably not&lt;br /&gt;79. Do you think men are complicated or simple?&lt;br /&gt;I think that everyone is complicated, I think that men are easier to read based on my experiences&lt;br /&gt;80. Would you rather date a bad boy or a nice boy? Why?&lt;br /&gt;A nice boy, because a bad boy would get on my nerves&lt;br /&gt;81. Have you ever had a nervous breakdown?&lt;br /&gt;Not like a seek medical attention breakdown but I have had days where nothing went right and I ended up screaming and crying and sobbing and having a panic attack and all that fun stuff&lt;br /&gt;82. Have you ever stepped on glass? Did you need stitches?&lt;br /&gt;yes, no&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7424537075144088534?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7424537075144088534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7424537075144088534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7424537075144088534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7424537075144088534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-will-not-become-survey-blog.html' title='This will not become a survey blog'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2682361869073190260</id><published>2008-09-29T12:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T13:16:16.492-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A survery of sorts</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Ten things I wish I could say to ten different people right now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I wish you could know how affraid I am, I know that you would calm my fears but I just wish you could understand my fear&lt;br /&gt;2.  I am so proud of everything that you have done, I miss you but I don't want you to come home becuase this is good for you&lt;br /&gt;3.  I wish that I lived closer to you and I'm sorry that you are going through all that CRAP&lt;br /&gt;4.  If you are happy, truely happy, then I'm happy for you and I'm glad that somehow things turned around for you two&lt;br /&gt;5.  I know that you are hurting, I wish I was there to cuddle you and cry with you&lt;br /&gt;6.  Thank you for everything that you have given me, I am who I am today becuase of you&lt;br /&gt;7.  I wish that you would wise up, you are so much smarter than this life that you are leading&lt;br /&gt;8.  You have five years before you get grandkids...I wish you would shape up so that you'll be here for them&lt;br /&gt;9.  I'm going to miss you and the antics of this place, I can't thank yo enough for everything that you have taught me&lt;br /&gt;10.  You are a prick who has done nothing but take advantage of the people who love you and I hope one day you'll realize what you have done and change who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nine things about myself&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I love a boy that loves ME back for the first time ever&lt;br /&gt;2.  I have a puppy that is the center of my world for now&lt;br /&gt;3.  I can debate almost anything, even if I don't believe in the cause&lt;br /&gt;4.  I have made more bad decisions than I care to admit to but, I am stronger for being allowed to fall flat on my face&lt;br /&gt;5.  I love clothes and fashion and color but, I almost never buy anything in the heart of the season&lt;br /&gt;6.  I'm slow at math but secretly love how it works&lt;br /&gt;7.  I am loaning 5 formal dresses that have never been worn right out of my closet and you know what there are at least 10 more where those came from&lt;br /&gt;8.  I love to shop, especially for other people and watch them in wonder as they discover that you don't have to wear the same old things to feel comfortable&lt;br /&gt;9.  I have a stack of books that I want to read so badly that I am tempted to start them all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eight ways to win my heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Be honest&lt;br /&gt;2.  Have a plan for the direction of your life&lt;br /&gt;3.  Be the cuddley, holding hand type of person&lt;br /&gt;4.  Feed me&lt;br /&gt;5.  Talk to me about things I don't know about in a way that I will understand but won't make me feel like you are trying to explain astrophysics to a five year old&lt;br /&gt;6.  Have convictions/strong opinons about things that matter to you&lt;br /&gt;7.  Take care of yourself and smell yummy&lt;br /&gt;8.  Get along with my friends and family becuase they are an extention of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seven things that cross my mind a lot&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  My five year plan&lt;br /&gt;2.  Grad school and affording it&lt;br /&gt;3.  What's for dinner/lunch?&lt;br /&gt;4.  How many hours until I get to see him again&lt;br /&gt;5.  What are we doing at work today?&lt;br /&gt;6.  Can I make a list for that&lt;br /&gt;7.  How everyone that I know is doing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Six things that I do before I fall asleep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Put on my PJs&lt;br /&gt;2.  Brush my teeth&lt;br /&gt;3.  Double check all the locks on the doors&lt;br /&gt;4.  Fold the blanket down at the foot of my bed&lt;br /&gt;5.  Set the alarm&lt;br /&gt;6.  Call Matthew to say goodnight if we aren't already on the phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five people who mean a lot to me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  My Mom and Daddy&lt;br /&gt;2.  Penny&lt;br /&gt;3.  Matthew&lt;br /&gt;4.  Amanda, Jen, Jen, Katy, Lizzy&lt;br /&gt;5.  Lynnsey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four things I'm wearing right now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Blue Jeans&lt;br /&gt;2.  Pink Polo&lt;br /&gt;3.  Cirque zip hoodie&lt;br /&gt;4.  Sneakers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three songs/artists that I listen to often&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Jessica Simpson, Do you Know and Your My Sunday&lt;br /&gt;2.  Keith Urban&lt;br /&gt;3.  Anything on the radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Two things that I want to do before I die&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Have and raise children&lt;br /&gt;2.  Travel to the rest of the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One confession&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always hate to be wrong, but I'll always say I'm sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2682361869073190260?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2682361869073190260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2682361869073190260' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2682361869073190260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2682361869073190260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/09/survery-of-sorts.html' title='A survery of sorts'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3333372519422186766</id><published>2008-09-29T11:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T11:42:48.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday Morning</title><content type='html'>I have thought long and hard about what lies below this paragraph.  I don't know if anyone of consequence to this situation actually reads this blog.  At this point I don't care.  Maybe, this isn't the right thing to do.  It's the only option that I feel like I have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My answer yesterday was a cop out.  I wanted so badly to scream in rage out at you.  I have never felt so protective of someone I know so little about.  You are her sister.  She is YOUR SISTER!!!!!! How could you say those things.  How could you air her laundry for the world to see without her there to defend herself?  How could you tell all of that without the history?  How could you not take partial responsibility for her feeling so isolated in her own home that she doesn't want to come home?  I will never understand what you did.  EVER!  I know that you don't agree with what is going on.  I know that in your eyes and the eyes of your family she is making a huge mistake.  I know that you think you know best.  Then I must ask what kind of example have you lead?&lt;br /&gt;I hate more than anything when parents say that adult older children are the example for younger adult children.  By the time you are an adult you should be making your own choices free and clear from the shadow of your siblings.  But still I know that your family believes in this sort of thing so I must say what example have you set.  You were in a volatile, to but it nicely, relationship with a person that you claim to have loved but can't stop pulling through the mud at every opportunity.  Is that what you want for your sister?  Really?&lt;br /&gt;You had no business talking about your sister like this.  As if you have been nothing but a support system to her and truly can't understand her desire to not be looked down upon.  People talk, we all know that your relationship isn't exactly supportive. &lt;br /&gt;So, I stand by my answer of not knowing the ins and outs.  I know that I am missing pieces.  I also know that as her sister, you should never go behind her back and call her out in that manner.  A family is supposed to be a source of love and companionship, not a source of strife where everyone but the person who you are miffed at knows the source of aggravation.  If you want it to get better you have to work at it.  And you have to work at it fairly.&lt;br /&gt;You should feel lucky that everyone doesn't know every failure that you have had in your faith.  I can't believe you.  I just can't believe that behavior.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3333372519422186766?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3333372519422186766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3333372519422186766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3333372519422186766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3333372519422186766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/09/yesterday-morning.html' title='Yesterday Morning'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2577206840047805073</id><published>2008-09-15T14:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T14:56:40.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let Me</title><content type='html'>Keep your head there on my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;Let's just lay here for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;We can hurry when were older.&lt;br /&gt;Girl don't worry about tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;That just seems so far away.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily me and you, all that we have to do is follow,&lt;br /&gt;just follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be the one who sets your feet up on a road where you've never been,&lt;br /&gt;oh and baby then,&lt;br /&gt;you can let me take these arms and wrap you up inside a night that will never end.&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be that man, if you let me.&lt;br /&gt;Come on baby let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby leave those candles burning,&lt;br /&gt;slide on over here to me.&lt;br /&gt;If you run with me girl, you know we'll make this world stop turning,&lt;br /&gt;just stop turning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be the one who sets your feet up on a road where you've never been,&lt;br /&gt;oh and baby then,&lt;br /&gt;you can let me take these arms and wrap you up inside a night that will never end.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to be that man, if you'd let me.&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhhh, ohhhhh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me be the one who sets your feet up on a road where you've never been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah! Let me take these arms and wrap you up inside a night that will never end.&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be that man, if you let me.&lt;br /&gt;Sweet baby let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Pat Green&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2577206840047805073?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2577206840047805073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2577206840047805073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2577206840047805073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2577206840047805073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/09/let-me.html' title='Let Me'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7803626432245516067</id><published>2008-09-10T11:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T11:17:00.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Guilty Pleasure</title><content type='html'>So, from the begining of her career Jessica Simpson has always been a secret favorite of mine.  Her music comes up in my mixed CDs and I have every album she has ever put out.  I know that people mocked her as apop singer because, lets face it she wasn't really a popstar.  Her songs just aren't beat driven enough and her lyrical content is a bit to mushy.  So, I can't tell you how excited I was when I heard she was releasing a country album.  Then I heard the first single on the radio and was blown away that she sounded so good.  Naturally I had to buy the album yesterday when it came out.  I promtly downloaded it from itunes when I got to work yesterday and have been listening to it on repeat ever since.  It is so good. I love nearly all the songs even if they aren't all happy.  I posted You're My Sunday on the right side for you to take a listen.  I'm so happy that she delivered in my opinion the best album she has ever.  Okay..off to actually get some work done today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7803626432245516067?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7803626432245516067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7803626432245516067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7803626432245516067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7803626432245516067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-guilty-pleasure.html' title='My Guilty Pleasure'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5587944394080755833</id><published>2008-08-25T16:52:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T17:07:30.017-04:00</updated><title type='text'>smiling faces</title><content type='html'>it's good to be back at school&lt;br /&gt;it's good to have people to be back at school with&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to see where we go this year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave you with a couple of pictures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238562652190211746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMc-iFs_qI/AAAAAAAAAJs/kZuKOx6CYb4/s320/vaca+6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;looking down Lookout Mountain on the Incline&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238562652664481650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMc-j2xx3I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/mh0qWHGwKZU/s320/vaca+5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;his face makes me think of "secret agent man"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and we are in a cave wearing sunglasses, how silly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238562659165371842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMc-8EtfcI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/YRByKwAySRE/s320/vaca+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;on the Incline&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238562658093084722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMc-4FDsDI/AAAAAAAAAKE/jAmlhIqTbNI/s320/vaca+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Some things never change&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238562667701386242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMc_b32vAI/AAAAAAAAAKM/IQNn8lNFnPo/s320/vaca+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The good picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238562787657209970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMdGavjWHI/AAAAAAAAAKU/zyrpCx-KMnc/s320/vaca+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My nephew, Jackson, who is now a big brother&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5587944394080755833?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5587944394080755833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5587944394080755833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5587944394080755833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5587944394080755833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/08/smiling-faces.html' title='smiling faces'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SLMc-iFs_qI/AAAAAAAAAJs/kZuKOx6CYb4/s72-c/vaca+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4035279446418999734</id><published>2008-07-23T11:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T11:42:57.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i can't say it out loud</title><content type='html'>why do I feel so broken. why is it that I want so badly to just sit here in this space and cry. when it comes down to it, that dream was telling but what if staying is more of a nightmare. it's never just a dream to me, I found that out in fourth grade. it might take time but somehow those dreams that seem so real only take time before they somehow work into my real life.  really, I don't know what to do and I need your help. please&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4035279446418999734?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4035279446418999734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4035279446418999734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4035279446418999734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4035279446418999734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-cant-say-it-out-loud.html' title='i can&apos;t say it out loud'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5385118163406355646</id><published>2008-07-22T11:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T11:56:25.402-04:00</updated><title type='text'>how true it is</title><content type='html'>We become what we think about all day long.&lt;br /&gt;     Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5385118163406355646?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5385118163406355646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5385118163406355646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5385118163406355646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5385118163406355646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-true-it-is.html' title='how true it is'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5994169866420907588</id><published>2008-07-17T12:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T12:58:28.572-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The reward is great...</title><content type='html'>I have never felt more rewarded for my very small effort than I do today.  I'm not sure I can describe what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; has happened.  It's possibly one of the best feelings in the entire world.  There is something about this feeling that is just awesome and it's better that i didn't even have to go out of my way.  I love the smile that's on my face and the lightness in my soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's raining outside.  I wish that I was outside in my play clothes running around in the rain.  There is something so cleansing about standing in the rain with your head turned up at the sky.  It's cliche I know, but I miss the carefree days of summer mid day rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; today is my last day of work this week.  I'm going home tomorrow to see my friends and Mama Mia!  I'm so excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, Penny is all grown up, or so it seems.  She's off to her college orientation this weekend in Alabama.  I can't believe that she's a junior in college.  Where did the time go! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you have been subjected to the randomness of my brain, I think I'm going to go work on my quilt for a bit.  Until the next time...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tootles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5994169866420907588?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5994169866420907588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5994169866420907588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5994169866420907588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5994169866420907588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/07/reward-is-great.html' title='The reward is great...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5228096743057703121</id><published>2008-07-14T19:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T08:54:51.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful</title><content type='html'>To the right and down below my about me you will find a new favorite song. I couldn't just post the lyrics because well, there aren't very many and it would look stupid. It's not just the lyrics anyway it's the whole song. Hopefully it plays on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;auto play&lt;/span&gt;, if not just press play. It's a live version so the spoken part in the middle isn't really part of the song but, it gives it a certain something that I didn't really mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I love you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P. S. the whole it's/ its thing still confuses me and I have no idea when or how to use it. I can't really believe that I just admitted that, now I'll have to find out the answer and post a blog just to educate all the confused people like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;enough&lt;/span&gt; of that, enjoy the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDIT-&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Katy!  What would I do without your elementary explanation.  By the way, my favorite part of the song was replaced by the spoken part...how sad :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5228096743057703121?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5228096743057703121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5228096743057703121' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5228096743057703121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5228096743057703121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/07/beautiful.html' title='Beautiful'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8113827933830669541</id><published>2008-07-09T11:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T11:48:43.502-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the silence of aggravation</title><content type='html'>Its quite now, I can hear the building creaking and the last drops of water dripping from the roof.  Its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;odd&lt;/span&gt; how much a person can think about when there isn't any noise to block out the heart.  The list is coming along, it seems like there really isn't enough to do but, then it seems like I can always find fault with the way it feels here.  Something is always out of place and there is always something to do.  My mind wanders to the wonderful things that have been happening in my life.  Also the not so wonderful things.  There has been drama, and I am concerned.  I haven't thought of a way to get through it, in fact I really think there isn't one.  Only to be strong &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; those who have hate and jealousy in there hearts and minds.  Also, I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;concerned&lt;/span&gt; because my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bestie&lt;/span&gt; has gone MIA and I can't seem to get back to her.  Maybe Mama Mia will bring us back together again.  Hopefully!  Wandering, wandering, wondering mind I feel all over the place these days, but then the only focus I have at work is ticking off the list and the days until there is someone else to talk to.  If ever you wanted to torture a person, give them a list and a space devoid of any communication.  I don't remember it being so bad last year, but then it's probably one of those things that I've just erased from my brain.  Onward...to clean shop and one more thing checked off the list!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8113827933830669541?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8113827933830669541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8113827933830669541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8113827933830669541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8113827933830669541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/07/silence-of-aggravation.html' title='the silence of aggravation'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5536164736716957654</id><published>2008-06-25T16:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T16:36:38.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>doors, doors, doors</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Flora Whittemore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;To often in my life I have heard metaphors about doors. You know the ones about closed doors and open windows or rather another opened door. I never cared much for them because they don't offer an opportunity for you to take responsibility for why the door closed. I love this quote because it gives ownership of the action. I have allowed doors to close that maybe, I should have kept open. I have allowed myself to stand screaming at a closed door. I have learned from those mistakes. For once I feel like I opened the right door, at just the right moment. Even though things are less stable than I would like at the moment everything is just fine. Now, I only have to decide which door is next. At least Maxwell Smart only has to walk down the hallway, there isn't any choice in which door is next.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5536164736716957654?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5536164736716957654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5536164736716957654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5536164736716957654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5536164736716957654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/doors-doors-doors.html' title='doors, doors, doors'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6749262393093812025</id><published>2008-06-24T11:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T11:51:10.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love You With All My Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can feel you watchin', I can feel your eyes on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can hear you whisper and I just get so weak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But I'm a little bit scared, it's been a long time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Since I let my guard down and let someone inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You don't need to wonder, 'cause tonight you'll get it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When the night closes in, I'm gonna pull you so close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hold you so tight, gonna let it all go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And you can do what you want, you can take me right here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;'Cause I knew from the start I was gonna love you with all my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You take my hand now, and I'm ready to begin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Though it makes me crazy when your fingers touch my skin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I know what you want and you know what I need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There's no reason to pretend that we don't know what this means&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When the night closes in, I'm gonna pull you so close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hold you so tight, gonna let it all go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And you can do what you want, you can take me right here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;'Cause I knew from the start I was gonna love you with all my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm gonna rock you, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And take away your maybe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And you can rest here in these open arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When the night closes in, I'm gonna pull you so close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hold you so tight, gonna let it all go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And you can do what you want, you can take me right here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;'Cause I knew from the start I was gonna love you with all my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was gonna love you with all my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was gonna love you with all my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can feel you watchin', I can feel your eyes on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sara Evans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6749262393093812025?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6749262393093812025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6749262393093812025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6749262393093812025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6749262393093812025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/love-you-with-all-my-heart.html' title='Love You With All My Heart'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7166428598230361407</id><published>2008-06-16T13:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T13:24:13.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>as defined by urbandictioanry.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most spectacular,indescribable, deep euphoric feeling for someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is an incredibly powerful word. When you're in love, you always want to be together, and when you're not, you're thinking about being together because you need that person and without them your life is incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This love is unconditional affection with no limits or conditions: completely loving someone. It's when you trust the other with your life and when you would do anything for each other. When you love someone you want nothing more than for them to be truly happy no matter what it takes because that's how much you care about them and because their needs come before your own. You hide nothing of yourself and can tell the other anything because you know they accept you just the way you are and vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's when they're the last thing you think about before you go to sleep and when they're the first thing you think of when you wake up, the feeling that warms your heart and leaves you overcome by a feeling of serenity. Love involves wanting to show your affection and/or devotion to each other. It's the smile on your face you get when you're thinking about them and miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love can make you do anything and sacrifice for what will be better in the end. Love is intense,and passionate. Everything seems brighter, happier and more wonderful when you're in love. If you find it, don't let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;c&gt;One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love. -Sophocles &lt;/c&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7166428598230361407?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7166428598230361407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7166428598230361407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7166428598230361407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7166428598230361407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8440265781699269067</id><published>2008-06-13T14:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T14:54:44.607-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To much to think about...</title><content type='html'>Today is a weird kind of day.  Everything is really calm.  The shop is cleaned up and I'm just hanging out at work waiting for the Tiffany to get here to do laundry.  This kind of calm inspires me to think about the awesomeness of everything that I have.  So often I am prone to taking my life for granted or complaining about how hard it is but, it's days like these that I am thankful for everything.  Things are pretty easy for me and I am more than grateful for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, Matthew is coming to see the show.  I'm excited about that.  Tomorrow will be two months of really awesome times with him.  That sounds so middle school but it's so true.  He inspires me to keep moving forward and I'm glad that I have his hand to hold through the scary stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming up next week is the Second Annual Slip N' Slide Fun Party.  Perhaps pictures will be in order!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8440265781699269067?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8440265781699269067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8440265781699269067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8440265781699269067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8440265781699269067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/to-much-to-think-about.html' title='To much to think about...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-698319991262795776</id><published>2008-06-12T10:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T10:25:26.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>change</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-Victor Frankl&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So many times I have struggled with change, thrown myself into and pulled back at the last second but nothing rings more true than the way I have grown through change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-698319991262795776?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/698319991262795776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=698319991262795776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/698319991262795776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/698319991262795776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/change.html' title='change'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8599900701219911321</id><published>2008-06-11T19:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T19:34:55.730-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonder...</title><content type='html'>wonder, wonder, wonder...what's in a wonder ball!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today has been a strange day and I'm not sure that tomorrow is going to get much better.  Lots of smaller things to finish up tomorrow and then the show opens.  I can't wait to be rid of the stress, but I'm proud of myself for still managing to get home every day this week and not breaking out with stress eczema between my fingers or a nasty cold sore, although as soon as I write that both will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;afflict&lt;/span&gt; me I'm sure! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm headed home to play with my puppy, becuase I feel like he's been neglected over the last week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay...46 Hours and counting!!!!! I miss you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8599900701219911321?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8599900701219911321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8599900701219911321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8599900701219911321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8599900701219911321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/wonder.html' title='Wonder...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5016116424808542287</id><published>2008-06-11T11:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T11:19:04.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i carry your heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and whatever a sun will always sing is you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;here is the deepest secret nobody knows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-ee cummings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5016116424808542287?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5016116424808542287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5016116424808542287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5016116424808542287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5016116424808542287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-carry-your-heart.html' title='i carry your heart'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2624471726265891262</id><published>2008-06-10T16:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T16:43:17.345-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Like You</title><content type='html'>I Like You by Sandol Stoddard Warburg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like you and I know why.&lt;br /&gt;I like you because you are a good person to like.&lt;br /&gt;I like you because when I tell you something special,&lt;br /&gt;you know it's special&lt;br /&gt;And you remember it a long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;You say, Remember when you told me something special&lt;br /&gt;And both of us remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think something is important&lt;br /&gt;you think it's important too&lt;br /&gt;We have good ideas&lt;br /&gt;When I say something funny, you laugh&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm funny and you think I'm funny too&lt;br /&gt;Hah-hah!&lt;br /&gt;I like you because you know where I'm ticklish&lt;br /&gt;And you don't tickle me there except just a little tiny bit sometimes&lt;br /&gt;But if you do, then I know where to tickle you too&lt;br /&gt;You know how to be silly&lt;br /&gt;That's why I like you&lt;br /&gt;Boy are you ever silly&lt;br /&gt;I never met anybody sillier than me till I met you&lt;br /&gt;I like you because you know when it's time to stop being silly&lt;br /&gt;Maybe day after tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Maybe never&lt;br /&gt;Too late, it's a quarter past silly&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we don't say a word&lt;br /&gt;We snurkle under fences&lt;br /&gt;We spy secret places&lt;br /&gt;If I am a goofus on the roofus hollering my head off&lt;br /&gt;You are one too&lt;br /&gt;If I pretend I am drowning, you pretend you are saving me&lt;br /&gt;If I am getting ready to pop a paper bag,&lt;br /&gt;then you are getting ready to jump&lt;br /&gt;HOORAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because you really like me&lt;br /&gt;You really like me, don't you&lt;br /&gt;And I really like you back&lt;br /&gt;And you like me back and I like you back&lt;br /&gt;And that's the way we keep on going every day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you go away, then I go away too&lt;br /&gt;or if I stay home, you send me a postcard&lt;br /&gt;You don't just say Well see you around sometime, bye&lt;br /&gt;I like you a lot because of that&lt;br /&gt;If I go away, I send you a postcard too&lt;br /&gt;And I like you because if we go away together&lt;br /&gt;And if we are in Grand Central Station&lt;br /&gt;And if I get lost&lt;br /&gt;Then you are the one that is yelling for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I like you because when I am feeling sad&lt;br /&gt;You don't always cheer me up right away&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it is better to be sad&lt;br /&gt;You can't stand the others being so googly and gaggly every single minute&lt;br /&gt;You want to think about things&lt;br /&gt;It takes time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like you because if I am mad at you&lt;br /&gt;Then you are mad at me too&lt;br /&gt;It's awful when the other person isn't&lt;br /&gt;They are so nice and hoo-hoo you could just about punch them in the nose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like you because if I think I am going to throw up&lt;br /&gt;then you are really sorry&lt;br /&gt;You don't just pretend you are busy looking at the birdies and all that&lt;br /&gt;You say, maybe it was something you ate&lt;br /&gt;You say, the same thing happened to me one time&lt;br /&gt;And the same thing did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find two four-leaf clovers, you give me one&lt;br /&gt;If I find four, I give you two&lt;br /&gt;If we only find three, we keep on looking&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we have good luck, and sometimes we don't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I break my arm, and if you break your arm too&lt;br /&gt;Then it's fun to have a broken arm&lt;br /&gt;I tell you about mine, you tell me about yours&lt;br /&gt;We are both sorry&lt;br /&gt;We write our names and draw pictures&lt;br /&gt;We show everybody and they wish they had a broken arm too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like you because I don't know why but&lt;br /&gt;Everything that happens is nicer with you&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember when I didn't like you&lt;br /&gt;It must have been lonesome then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like you because because because&lt;br /&gt;I forget why I like you but I do&lt;br /&gt;So many reasons&lt;br /&gt;On the 4th of July I like you because it's the 4th of July&lt;br /&gt;On the fifth of July, I like you too&lt;br /&gt;If you and I had some drums and some horns and some horses&lt;br /&gt;If we had some hats and some flags and some fire engines&lt;br /&gt;We could be a HOLIDAY&lt;br /&gt;We could be a CELEBRATION&lt;br /&gt;We could be a WHOLE PARADE&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if it was the 999th of July&lt;br /&gt;Even if it was August&lt;br /&gt;Even if it was way down at the bottom of November&lt;br /&gt;Even if it was no place particular in January&lt;br /&gt;I would go on choosing you&lt;br /&gt;And you would go on choosing me&lt;br /&gt;Over and over again&lt;br /&gt;That's how it would happen every time&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't know why I really like you&lt;br /&gt;Why do I like you&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just like you&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just like you because I like you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2624471726265891262?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2624471726265891262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2624471726265891262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2624471726265891262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2624471726265891262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-like-you.html' title='I Like You'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4836839365849776215</id><published>2008-06-09T10:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T10:27:17.952-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>In a perfect world you would be there when I get home tonight.  I know that it's not going to happen.  After all the world isn't perfect.  And let's not even mention the fact that what I want and what needs to happen are like four different things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to work on the show...becuase we need to get done to relieve the stress for the rest of the week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4836839365849776215?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4836839365849776215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4836839365849776215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4836839365849776215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4836839365849776215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4431187939434856994</id><published>2008-06-02T23:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T23:18:48.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>missing parts</title><content type='html'>parts of me seem to be missing&lt;br /&gt;it's really hard to focus&lt;br /&gt;I'm so easily distracted&lt;br /&gt;do you know how hard that makes it&lt;br /&gt;just doing regular things takes forever&lt;br /&gt;sometimes,&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what exactly is missing&lt;br /&gt;and how I put it back&lt;br /&gt;so that I can get through the days&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4431187939434856994?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4431187939434856994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4431187939434856994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4431187939434856994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4431187939434856994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/06/missing-parts.html' title='missing parts'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6106808993244910330</id><published>2008-05-31T22:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:35:13.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm gonna be here for you baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'll be a man of my word&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Speak the language in a voice that you have never heard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wanna sleep with you forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I wanna die in your arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;In a cabin by a meadow where the wild bees swarm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'll earn your trust making memories of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wanna honor your mother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wanna learn from your pa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wanna steal your attention like a bad outlaw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wanna stand out in a crowd for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;A man among men&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I wanna make your world better than it's ever been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'll earn your trust making memories of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;We'll follow the rainbow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Wherever the four winds blow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And there'll be a new day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Comin' your way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm gonna be here for you from now on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;This you know somehow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;You've been stretched to the limits but it's alright now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'm gonna make you a promise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;If there's life after this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm gonna be there to meet you with a warm, wet kiss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'll earn your trust making memories of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm gonna love you like nobody loves you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;And I'll win your trust making memories of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;This is one of my favorite Keith Urban songs.  Maybe because there have been so many memories in the past few weeks, but I can't stop listening to this song.  The words of this song make me smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6106808993244910330?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6106808993244910330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6106808993244910330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6106808993244910330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6106808993244910330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/memories.html' title='Memories!'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-83190749781006844</id><published>2008-05-21T10:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T10:52:09.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>butterfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SDQ16Ih0K9I/AAAAAAAAAGk/l-0Yjonj97g/s1600-h/AdaButterflyFence.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202842742357765074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SDQ16Ih0K9I/AAAAAAAAAGk/l-0Yjonj97g/s320/AdaButterflyFence.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;is always beyond our grasp, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but, if you will sit down quietly, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;may alight upon you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;— Nathaniel Hawthorne&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SDQ164h0K-I/AAAAAAAAAGs/YjkbK5EFK6A/s1600-h/AdaButterfly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202842755242666978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SDQ164h0K-I/AAAAAAAAAGs/YjkbK5EFK6A/s320/AdaButterfly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;p.s. these photos belong to a woman whos blog that I have read for a long time and I am in no way trying to pretend that they are mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-83190749781006844?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/83190749781006844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=83190749781006844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/83190749781006844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/83190749781006844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/butterfly.html' title='butterfly'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/SDQ16Ih0K9I/AAAAAAAAAGk/l-0Yjonj97g/s72-c/AdaButterflyFence.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3379216172614890209</id><published>2008-05-20T13:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T13:41:29.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>packing</title><content type='html'>I love to travel, it's so exciting.  However, I DO NOT love to pack.  So, I've got my to do list and my packing list and my list of things to make sure I don't forget and the list of things for the dog that he needs to stay with my parents.  Because I love a good list this is the easy part.  Tonight starts the work of actually doing the things on the to do list and getting the stuff together to be packed and putting a bag together for Riley.  ARRRGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!   I hate to pack, hate, hate, hate to pack.  Okay, so I  have nothing better to do tonight and it will keep me busy and then first part of my vacation is 4 days with Matthew so I guess that's not so bad.  Alright...off to finish my day at work (eek, must get finished patterning today!) and then head home to pack!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3379216172614890209?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3379216172614890209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3379216172614890209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3379216172614890209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3379216172614890209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/packing.html' title='packing'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4089900454285793961</id><published>2008-05-19T10:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T10:23:16.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>the things that I want have never been more or less clear.  i'm not sure exactly how that is possible but it is true.  try talking with someone about what we talk about, they think i'm nuts and sane all at the same time.  i feel like a yo-yo that can't decide.  bliss, on my mind and in my heart spreads across my face when you cross my thoughts. 100 miles a minute and i still can't keep up. like a paint swirl that just keeps going, getting more mixed up with every second.  think less, let it go but that's hard for me and i don't want that to show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4089900454285793961?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4089900454285793961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4089900454285793961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4089900454285793961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4089900454285793961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5989362231552984446</id><published>2008-05-18T14:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T14:24:39.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You Can Let Go Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wind blowin' on my face &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sidewalk flyin' beneath my bike &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A five year-old's first taste &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Of what freedom's really like &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He was runnin' right beside me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;His hand holdin' on the seat &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I took a deep breath and hollered &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As I headed for the street &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go now, Daddy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, I think I'm ready &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To do this on my own &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's still a little bit scary &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I want you to know &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll be okay now, Daddy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was standin' at the altar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Between the two loves of my life &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To one I've been a daughter &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To one I soon would be a wife &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When the preacher asked, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Who gives this woman?' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Daddy's eyes filled up with tears &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He kept holdin' tightly to my arm &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Til I whispered in his ear &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go now, Daddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, I think I'm ready to do this on my own&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It still feels a little bit scary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I want you to know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll be okay now, Daddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; It was killin' me to see &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The strongest man I ever knew &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wastin' away to nothin' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In that hospital room &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'You know he's only hangin' on for you' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That's what the night nurse said &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My voice and heart were breakin' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As I crawled up in his bed, and said &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go now, Daddy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your little girl is ready &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To do this on my own &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's gonna be a little bit scary &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I want you to know &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll be okay now, Daddy &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You can let go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Crystal Shawanda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5989362231552984446?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5989362231552984446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5989362231552984446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5989362231552984446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5989362231552984446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-can-let-go-now.html' title='You Can Let Go Now'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6673012072586661412</id><published>2008-05-16T09:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T09:10:08.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't think I know anymore</title><content type='html'>Maybe, just this once I'll admit that life scares me sometimes.  Not enough to hide from it, just enough for me to have a healthy fear of what I don't know.  I looked because I was curious and wanted to know.  The two programs sound similar but they use big words that I don't understand.  If I had to guess you'll probably stay here which, I think might be better.  After all, you worked all this out ahead of time and I trust that you found the best fit for you.  The way you talk to me, amazes me on a daily basis.  I don't feel freaked out and confused or that you'll poke fun at me.  Now, for some research of my own.  Where should I look?  Where should I not look?  Who has those answers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6673012072586661412?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6673012072586661412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6673012072586661412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6673012072586661412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6673012072586661412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-dont-think-i-know-anymore.html' title='I don&apos;t think I know anymore'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2346473451614515853</id><published>2008-05-15T13:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T13:47:31.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>to plan</title><content type='html'>Some people are cut out to fly by the seat of their pants.  They just drift along and take what comes to them.  They are a unique lot because they can adapt very quickly, always managing to make the best of their circumstance if they are are going to be happy.  Of course, there are those who float along but aren't really cut out for this type of life.  These are people who take no responsibility in their lives and are perpetually blaming their strife and hardship on everyone around them.  They never find true happiness and they will never understand why.  I am neither of these kinds of people.  I am the kind of person who needs a plan.  I need direction in my life and I can never stand still for very long.  The thing is though that I feel like I am bit of a mixture of sorts.  I love to have a plan and a map but I am eager to detour and find what is off the beaten path.  I feel a little bit like I'm talking in a circle here.  The fact is, in Feb.  I rewrote my 5 year plan to actually be six years and I would end with my PhD.  Now, I'm not sure exactly how to work it all out again.  Because gallivanting off to LA for the next 5 years is looking more and more like a plan I'm not ready to follow through on.  Yes, I'm ready to go back to get my masters, yes I want to go up to LSU, yes I'm eager to sink my soul into learning again.  I just don't know if I'm ready to go for five years.  There is so much going on in my brain today.  All I have left to do is chat it all out and see where the cards lay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2346473451614515853?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2346473451614515853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2346473451614515853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2346473451614515853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2346473451614515853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/to-plan.html' title='to plan'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-1659354998893616566</id><published>2008-05-13T15:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T15:26:47.131-04:00</updated><title type='text'>daydream</title><content type='html'>sometimes i wonder what my life looks like from an outside perspective.   i feel busy but when i look at the big picture i'm really doing a lot less these days.  i'm excited about the future and the cool things that are setting up right now, but i wonder if someone on the outside of my life would just see history repeating.  is it really different this time, or did i just make that up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-1659354998893616566?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/1659354998893616566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=1659354998893616566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1659354998893616566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1659354998893616566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/daydream.html' title='daydream'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8125421379324047804</id><published>2008-05-13T12:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T12:56:26.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>yet to be determined</title><content type='html'>Poised to write a story&lt;br /&gt;Full of faith and trust&lt;br /&gt;Make believe and pixie dust&lt;br /&gt;Ready to jump head first&lt;br /&gt;Into unknown depths&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand and make it true&lt;br /&gt;Breathe with me and jump on through&lt;br /&gt;A dream to good to miss&lt;br /&gt;Has happened right before me&lt;br /&gt;New and exciting&lt;br /&gt;The chance to start fresh&lt;br /&gt;To have the ending&lt;br /&gt;I thought I could only read&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8125421379324047804?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8125421379324047804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8125421379324047804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8125421379324047804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8125421379324047804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/05/yet-to-be-determined.html' title='yet to be determined'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7840823099921621146</id><published>2008-04-30T10:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T10:57:31.874-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Take My Eyes Off You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know that the bridges that I’ve burned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Along the way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Have left me with these walls and these scars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;That won’t go away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And opening up has always been the hardest thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Until you came&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So lay here beside me just hold me and don’t let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This feelin’ I’m feelin’ is somethin’ I’ve never known&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I just can’t take my eyes off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I just can’t take my eyes off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love when you tell me that I’m pretty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When I just wake up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I love how you tease me when I’m moody&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But it’s never too much&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I’m falling fast but the truth is I’m not scared at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You climbed my walls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So lay here beside me just hold me and don’t let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This feelin’ I’m feelin’ is somethin’ I’ve never known&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I just can’t take my eyes off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I just can’t take my eyes off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So lay here beside me just hold me and don’t let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This feelin’ I’m feelin’ is somethin’ I’ve never known&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I just can’t take my eyes off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And I just can’t take my eyes off you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Lady Antebellum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7840823099921621146?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7840823099921621146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7840823099921621146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7840823099921621146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7840823099921621146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/cant-take-my-eyes-off-you.html' title='Can&apos;t Take My Eyes Off You'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8964466725243441727</id><published>2008-04-29T09:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T10:11:21.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Runaway Bride</title><content type='html'>So, I was watching Runaway Bride last night and I couldn't help but see that there are definite similarities.  Well, for the exception that I don't ever make it to the wedding.  Always giving my heart out and trying to be something that I'm not and well, that hasn't worked out very well at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting in February I made a fresh start.  I promised to be just me, take it or leave it.  Through my past I've learned that some people bring out the worst in you.  I promised that if I started to see that happen I would change the situation.  So far, I'm happier than I have been in ages because there aren't any knock down drag out fights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Runaway Bride to close out this entry. &lt;br /&gt;my favorite quote from the whole movie:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000152/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ike Graham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;: [on the perfect proposal] Look, I guarantee there'll be tough times. I guarantee that at some point, one or both of us is gonna want to get out of this thing. But I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life, because I know, in my heart, you're the only one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time Richard Gere delivers this line I tear up a little bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8964466725243441727?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8964466725243441727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8964466725243441727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8964466725243441727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8964466725243441727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/runaway-bride.html' title='Runaway Bride'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-1188513327450625503</id><published>2008-04-25T14:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T14:10:44.751-04:00</updated><title type='text'>yipeee</title><content type='html'>we could have met at anytime&lt;br /&gt;we didn't&lt;br /&gt;and I can't say how thankful I am for that&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-1188513327450625503?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/1188513327450625503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=1188513327450625503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1188513327450625503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1188513327450625503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/yipeee.html' title='yipeee'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4454977997375405485</id><published>2008-04-23T15:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T15:51:58.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'>... &lt;3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you&lt;br /&gt;Yes theres a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down&lt;br /&gt;I want to come too&lt;br /&gt;I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you&lt;br /&gt;No one understands me quite like you do&lt;br /&gt;Through all of the shadowy corners of me&lt;br /&gt;I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop&lt;br /&gt;I love so much&lt;br /&gt;All of the while I never knew&lt;br /&gt;I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop&lt;br /&gt;I love so much&lt;br /&gt;All of the while I never knew&lt;br /&gt;I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you&lt;br /&gt;Yes theres a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm shining too&lt;br /&gt;Because oh because&lt;br /&gt;I've fallen quite hard over you&lt;br /&gt;If I didn't know you, I'd rather not know&lt;br /&gt;If I couldn't have you, I'd rather be alone&lt;br /&gt;I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop&lt;br /&gt;I love so much&lt;br /&gt;All of the while I never knew&lt;br /&gt;I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop&lt;br /&gt;I love so much&lt;br /&gt;All of the while, I never knew&lt;br /&gt;All of the while , all of the while&lt;br /&gt;It was you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;-landon pigg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4454977997375405485?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4454977997375405485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4454977997375405485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4454977997375405485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4454977997375405485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/3.html' title='... &lt;3'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5488516451146422113</id><published>2008-04-23T10:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:23:30.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in the morning light</title><content type='html'>last night, you put my heart at ease. the truth is, i worry that this is on a run away course for disaster. then, you confide your fear...even if it was only temporary, and i realize we share so many similar thoughts. it seems to me that every time these feelings are so different, so cliche to say i've never been here but so true. in you i put my trust, because i know that you won't abuse it. i'll let go of this fear and let it sink. when i'm with you i remember how to swim, so being in over my head just isn't the problem that i thought it might be. let it go where it will go, the promise for a new direction in my life hasn't failed me yet; i don't have the right to question it now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5488516451146422113?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5488516451146422113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5488516451146422113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5488516451146422113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5488516451146422113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-morning-light.html' title='in the morning light'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2706844778797600636</id><published>2008-04-22T16:33:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:24:17.385-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ready or not</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;there are things that I'm not ready to tell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;feelings I'm not ready to feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;my heart jumps when you cross my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;you are the sweetest thing that has ever happened to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I just don't want to trip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;because I will fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;and the landing will hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm not prepared for what you do to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;this is surreal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;like a fairytale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;swept off my feet, as if my heart had wings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;how often we blame the wrong party&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;but how do I trust that this won't hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;like it has every other time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;this is the door that's closed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;that I'm not really ready to open&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;especially on day 48&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;but, where does it go from here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;if I just keep holding on to this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;-pamela joyce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2706844778797600636?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2706844778797600636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2706844778797600636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2706844778797600636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2706844778797600636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/ready-or-not.html' title='ready or not'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2469477336602656066</id><published>2008-04-21T12:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T12:50:06.844-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way I Am</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you were falling, then I would catch you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You need a light, I'd find a match.&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I love the way you say good morning.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you take me the way I am.&lt;br /&gt;If you are chilly, here take my sweater.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your head is aching, I'll make it better.&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I love the way you call me baby.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you take me the way I am.&lt;br /&gt;I'd buy you Rogaine if you start losing all your hair.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sew on patches to all you tear.&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you take me the way I am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You take me the way I am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You take me the way I am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;-Ingrid Michaelson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2469477336602656066?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2469477336602656066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2469477336602656066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2469477336602656066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2469477336602656066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/way-i-am.html' title='The Way I Am'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4786685014870274953</id><published>2008-04-19T23:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T11:12:25.335-04:00</updated><title type='text'>all i can do is smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suddenly life means so much &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can't wait to wake up tomorrow&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And find out this promise is true&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will never have to go back to&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The day before you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In your eyes I see forever&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Makes me wish that my life never knew&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The day before you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh, but Heaven knows those years without you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Were shaping my heart for the that day I found you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you're the reason for all that I've been through&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then I'm thankful for the day before you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;I never knew that simple pleasures could be so enjoyable. Who knew that hours could pass so quickly? I had forgotten how to be this happy, how to just let everything else go and be in the moment. I have so enjoyed every moment with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4786685014870274953?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4786685014870274953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4786685014870274953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4786685014870274953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4786685014870274953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-i-can-do-is-smile.html' title='all i can do is smile'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4078243138770583596</id><published>2008-04-16T12:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T12:40:24.047-04:00</updated><title type='text'>love at first listen</title><content type='html'>so...I think I just fell head over heels in love with this song.  I went out and found her on you tube and listened to some of her other music and she is so awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it Again&lt;br /&gt;Marie Digby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about love&lt;br /&gt;Is i never saw it coming&lt;br /&gt;It kinda crept up and took me by surprise&lt;br /&gt;And now there’s a voice inside my heart that’s got me wondering&lt;br /&gt;Is this true, i want to hear it one more time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move in a little closer&lt;br /&gt;Take it to a whisper&lt;br /&gt;Just a little louder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it again for me&lt;br /&gt;Cuz i love the way it feels when you are telling me that i’m&lt;br /&gt;The only one who blows your mind&lt;br /&gt;Say it again for me&lt;br /&gt;It’s like the whole world stops to listen&lt;br /&gt;When you tell me you’re in love&lt;br /&gt;Say it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing about you is you know just how to get me&lt;br /&gt;You talk about us like there’s no end in sight&lt;br /&gt;The thing about me is that i really want to let you&lt;br /&gt;Open that door and walk into my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move in a little closer&lt;br /&gt;Take it to a whisper&lt;br /&gt;Just a little louder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it again for me&lt;br /&gt;Cuz i love the way it feels when you are telling me that i’m&lt;br /&gt;The only one who blows your mind&lt;br /&gt;Say it again for me&lt;br /&gt;It’s like the whole world stops to listen&lt;br /&gt;When you tell me you’re in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it feels like it’s the first time&lt;br /&gt;That anybody's ever brought the sun without the rain&lt;br /&gt;And never in my whole life&lt;br /&gt;Have I heard words as beautiful as when you say my name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it again for me&lt;br /&gt;Cuz i love the way it feels when you are telling me that i’m&lt;br /&gt;The only one who blows your mind&lt;br /&gt;Say it again for me&lt;br /&gt;It’s like the whole world stops to listen&lt;br /&gt;When you tell me you’re in love&lt;br /&gt;Say it again (x9)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you tell me you’re in love…&lt;br /&gt;Say it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohhh...Ohhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  It feels really good to be able to listen to sappy music again without wanting to choke something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4078243138770583596?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4078243138770583596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4078243138770583596' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4078243138770583596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4078243138770583596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-at-first-listen.html' title='love at first listen'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2997225616472591149</id><published>2008-04-10T13:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T13:55:01.849-04:00</updated><title type='text'>twitterpated</title><content type='html'>twitterpated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onclick="thumbs.click(1581594, 0)" href="javascript:void(0)"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An enjoyable disorder characterized by feelings of excitement, anticipation, high hopes, recent memories of interludes, giddiness, and physical overstimulation which occur simultaneously when experiencing a new love. These feelings take over without warning, usually at odd times (such as at a check-out line), with or without the partner present, and make it difficult to concentrate on anything but romance. They interfere with work and safe driving, but should be experienced at least once in every person's lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*this definition care of urban dictionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I lived with Liz we used to joke about this.  Everytime I would get excited about anything she'd say "dont go gettin all twitterpated."  So I'm so excited about this weekend that it made me think of those first days of spring when I was in school.  You all know the ones.  For me it was seeing everyone out and about.  Students laying in the Ravine and reading or playing roudy games of frisbee or catch.  The feeling of "twittwerpation" in the air, even if it was just feeling the lust that spring brings out in the best of young folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2997225616472591149?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2997225616472591149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2997225616472591149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2997225616472591149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2997225616472591149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/twitterpated.html' title='twitterpated'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6966537786097197905</id><published>2008-04-08T10:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T10:06:30.384-04:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>There is something so simple in the love of a dog.  He is there when I get home, ready to forgive me for being late.  He can tell when I need to be loved, jumping up and giving me puppy hugs.  I taught him how to do this and now when I say hug he'll jump up in my lap, put his paws on my shoulders and lay his head on my chest.  Sometimes he'll lay like this for hours, just content to be there.  He is protective, never letting anyone he doesn't know get to close.  There something so comforting about having him there.  I'll never be alone when he's there and that makes me smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6966537786097197905?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6966537786097197905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6966537786097197905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6966537786097197905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6966537786097197905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4468401052944202847</id><published>2008-04-07T13:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T13:34:03.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>how do you define love.is it in the smell of clean laundry.is it deeper than that.i will tell you that it's in the sigh of my puppy.the exhiliration of opening my door to a clean house.the thrill of the knock at my door.never knowing what you are thinking.the look in the eyes of people as you defy there expectation.the glory of success.the joy that i share with my family.understanding me and the way to my heart.love is finding a friend that always remembers the things that are important.love is knowing what is important.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4468401052944202847?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4468401052944202847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4468401052944202847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4468401052944202847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4468401052944202847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2823591933171241199</id><published>2008-04-04T15:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T15:41:40.535-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking Chances</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't know much about your life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't know much about your world, but&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't want to be alone tonight,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On this planet they call earth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You don't know about my past, and I don't have a future figured out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And maybe this is going too fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And maybe it's not meant to last, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But what do you say to taking chances,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say to jumping off the edge?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Never knowing if there's solid ground below&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I just want to start again,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And maybe you could show me how to try,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And maybe you could take me in,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Somewhere underneath your skin?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say to taking chances,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say to jumping off the edge?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Never knowing if there's solid ground below&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I had my heart beaten down,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I always come back for more, yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There’s nothing like love to pull you up,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you’re laying down on the floor there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So talk to me, talk to me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like lovers do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yeah walk with me, walk with me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like lovers do,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Like lovers do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say to taking chances,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say to jumping off the edge?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Never knowing if there's solid ground below&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What do you say?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don’t know much about your life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I don’t know much about your world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2823591933171241199?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2823591933171241199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2823591933171241199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2823591933171241199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2823591933171241199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/taking-chances.html' title='Taking Chances'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3002140204327925378</id><published>2008-04-04T13:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T13:10:11.574-04:00</updated><title type='text'>to think</title><content type='html'>this is my place to think out loud...I just htought I would preface that before writing this stuff down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed today that you changed your profile status on myspace.  I don't recall having a conversation with you about said status.  More over I don't know how to tell you that I'm not ready.  I don't even know you!  Oh, and if your status has nothing to do with me...I am throughly confused.  I am not about to go on a date with someone who is of your status if you aren't talking about me.  So, this is vague and maybe there are no names and maybe you won't get it but if you do...please don't make you me tell you that I'm not your girlfriend and that I didn't plan on that sort of thing until I at least got to know you a little better.  I like you, I do but I'm not ready for that sort of commitment.  I want to not go there for awhile.  I'm sorry if you feel like I lead you on in some way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3002140204327925378?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3002140204327925378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3002140204327925378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3002140204327925378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3002140204327925378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-think.html' title='to think'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6635569494531247473</id><published>2008-04-02T12:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T12:59:02.181-04:00</updated><title type='text'>strange</title><content type='html'>it feels strange to talk to you&lt;br /&gt;like I'm breaking all the rules&lt;br /&gt;you'll never convince me&lt;br /&gt;that you don't care&lt;br /&gt;that you were worried about me&lt;br /&gt;I think you were scared of your own&lt;br /&gt;breaking and falling to pieces&lt;br /&gt;but you gave up&lt;br /&gt;and now you'll never know&lt;br /&gt;what could have been&lt;br /&gt;and yet...somehow&lt;br /&gt;after all that we went through&lt;br /&gt;not that it was tough&lt;br /&gt;or even big stuff&lt;br /&gt;it feels strange to talk to you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6635569494531247473?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6635569494531247473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6635569494531247473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6635569494531247473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6635569494531247473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/strange.html' title='strange'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-319498725684211581</id><published>2008-04-01T10:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T11:12:36.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>holy cow it's april</title><content type='html'>The world is moving to fast for me.  The days blur into weeks that blur into months and before you can blink it's the first of April and I haven't even had time to breathe.  Spring break was wonderful to say the least.  I relaxed and had a good time and I cleaned my house and managed to make my office function rather than be a dumping ground for all the stuff in my life.  I visited LSU and fell in love.  Now I just have to figure out how I am going to afford to go.  It's funny to think that I'm okay with completely uprooting my life again.  I am happy here, I am settled and I like it but for some reason I crave more.   I miss going to school.  I miss that sort of interface.  I am not complete sure how this whole situation is going to work out.  I have met so many people in the past couple of months and have made new friends and now I have to be okay with just leaving that all behind.  I suppose that if they are really my friends then it will all be okay.  I'm looking forward to what life is throwing at me.  Sometime you have to duck and sometimes you have to stand up and catch the ball.  We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;smile, because the whole world is watching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;hide your heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;hold on tight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;dance with your arms wide open&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;sing, even if you are out of tune&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;play the game &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;hold your head up high&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;smile, because the whole world it waiting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;for you to fail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-319498725684211581?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/319498725684211581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=319498725684211581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/319498725684211581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/319498725684211581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/04/holy-cow-its-april.html' title='holy cow it&apos;s april'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7955814461224278111</id><published>2008-03-15T17:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T10:58:33.539-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R9xC0V9I9DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eDUphWyE_yw/s1600-h/HPIM0059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178087138583442482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R9xC0V9I9DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eDUphWyE_yw/s320/HPIM0059.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Crocodile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pirates and Princess Party &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3-14-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Home for the holiday...well at least part of it. It feels good to take a break but I have a lot to do this week, including preparing for my school visit next week. So, my life is hectic at the moment but its the kind of hectic where I could lay around all day today and not feel bad about it. So much is going on, yet I still feel in control. I am so excited about going to visit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;LSU&lt;/span&gt; and that is going to make it much easier to get things together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is a day at Disney. I am so &lt;strong&gt;super&lt;/strong&gt; excited!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7955814461224278111?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7955814461224278111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7955814461224278111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7955814461224278111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7955814461224278111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-break.html' title='Spring Break'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R9xC0V9I9DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eDUphWyE_yw/s72-c/HPIM0059.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-1016173870150435100</id><published>2008-03-06T10:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T11:06:34.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Stronger Woman</title><content type='html'>I guess you could say&lt;br /&gt;I’m one of those girls&lt;br /&gt;that's always been with one of those guys&lt;br /&gt;you know the type&lt;br /&gt;like right now&lt;br /&gt;he sleeps while I write&lt;br /&gt;but it’s better than crying&lt;br /&gt;I'm worn out from trying&lt;br /&gt;from loving a man who always makes it clear&lt;br /&gt;I am not welcome here&lt;br /&gt;just when he's hungry or frisky or needs something clean&lt;br /&gt;you know what I mean&lt;br /&gt;but not tonight&lt;br /&gt;cause come the morning light&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna love myself&lt;br /&gt;more than anyone else&lt;br /&gt;believe in me&lt;br /&gt;even if someone can’t see&lt;br /&gt;a stronger woman in me&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna be my own best friend&lt;br /&gt;stick with me till the end&lt;br /&gt;won’t lose myself again&lt;br /&gt;never, no&lt;br /&gt;cause theres a stronger woman&lt;br /&gt;a stronger woman in me&lt;br /&gt;light bulbs buzz I get up&lt;br /&gt;and head to my drawer&lt;br /&gt;wish there was more&lt;br /&gt;I could say&lt;br /&gt;another fairy tale fades to grey&lt;br /&gt;I’ve lived on hope&lt;br /&gt;like a child&lt;br /&gt;walking that mile&lt;br /&gt;faking that smile&lt;br /&gt;all the while&lt;br /&gt;wishing my heart had wings&lt;br /&gt;well from now on I am gonna be&lt;br /&gt;the kind of woman I want my daughter to be&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna love myself&lt;br /&gt;more than anyone else&lt;br /&gt;believe in me&lt;br /&gt;even if someone can’t see &lt;br /&gt;a stronger woman in me&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna be my own best friend&lt;br /&gt;stick with me till the end&lt;br /&gt;won’t lose myself again&lt;br /&gt;never, no&lt;br /&gt;cause there’s a stronger woman, a stronger woman&lt;br /&gt;this is me packing up my bags&lt;br /&gt;this is me headed for the door&lt;br /&gt;this is me the best you ever had&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna love myself&lt;br /&gt;more than anyone else&lt;br /&gt;believe in me, even if someone can’t see&lt;br /&gt;the stonger woman in me&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna be my own best friend&lt;br /&gt;stick with me till the end&lt;br /&gt;won’t lose myself again&lt;br /&gt;no, no&lt;br /&gt;cause there’s a stronger woman, stronger woman&lt;br /&gt;theres a steronger woman, a stronger woman in me&lt;br /&gt;a stronger woman in me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-1016173870150435100?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/1016173870150435100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=1016173870150435100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1016173870150435100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1016173870150435100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/03/stronger-woman.html' title='A Stronger Woman'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5902657475187457845</id><published>2008-03-04T11:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T11:07:19.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So..the thing is...</title><content type='html'>A complicated conversation went down last night. The worst part is that I don't really know how I feel about it all. I can't help but feel distant and confused &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; it seems that I am lacking something that is needed. For now, I will play it by ear. I've got a busy week coming up. bowling tomorrow, party on Thursday, rehearsal on Friday, and the wedding on Saturday. Whew..I can't think about all of this and still get through the week. So, I vow to let it go today and pick it up some other day when I feel like I can figure out what the hell happened last night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5902657475187457845?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5902657475187457845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5902657475187457845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5902657475187457845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5902657475187457845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/03/sothe-thing-is.html' title='So..the thing is...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3291572248940492278</id><published>2008-03-03T15:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T15:30:08.628-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><content type='html'>I never realized that I could be so happy and so sad at the same time.  Interesting how life can throw a curve ball at you and you never see it coming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3291572248940492278?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3291572248940492278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3291572248940492278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3291572248940492278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3291572248940492278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/03/hmmm.html' title='hmmm'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7348580810608187153</id><published>2008-02-27T09:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T09:15:28.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tink...oh to be Tink</title><content type='html'>There is something so comforting in the world of neverland.  Tink and her fairy friends are so wonderful.  I had forgotten how much I enjoyed their story until I had the chance to share it with someone.   Now I must seek out the new book, so that I can continue the story with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7348580810608187153?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7348580810608187153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7348580810608187153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7348580810608187153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7348580810608187153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/02/tinkoh-to-be-tink.html' title='Tink...oh to be Tink'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3704095574991616002</id><published>2008-02-18T17:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T17:20:10.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Near to You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;he and I had something beautiful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but so dysfunctional, it couldn't last&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I loved him so but I let him go&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘cause I knew he'd never love me back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;such pain as this shouldn't have to be experienced&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm still reeling from the loss, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;still a little bit delirious&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;near to you, I am healing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but it's taking so long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause though he's gone &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and you are wonderful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it's hard to move on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;yet, I'm better near to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you and I have something different&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and I'm enjoying it cautiously&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm battle scarred, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but I am working oh so hard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to get back to who I used to be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he's disappearing, fading steadily&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;well, I'm so close to being yours, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;won’t you stay with me, please&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;near to you, I am healing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but it's taking so long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause though he's gone &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and you are wonderful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it’s hard to move on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;yet, I'm better near to you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I only know that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am better where you are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I only know that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am better where you are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I only know that I belong &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;where you are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;near to you, I am healing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but it's taking so long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'cause though he's gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and you are wonderful&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it’s hard to move on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;yet, I'm better near to you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am so inlove with this girl. A Fine Frenzy is her name, well actually her name is Allison. Her CD is One Cell in the Sea. I love her music, it speaks to me the way music usually doesn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3704095574991616002?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3704095574991616002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3704095574991616002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3704095574991616002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3704095574991616002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/02/near-to-you.html' title='Near to You'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3810529032772118144</id><published>2008-02-16T00:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T00:02:55.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the words of Taylor Swift</title><content type='html'>I don't know what I want, so don't ask me&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm still trying to figure it out&lt;br /&gt;Don't know what's down this road, im just walking&lt;br /&gt;Trying to see through the rain coming down&lt;br /&gt;Even though I'm not the only one&lt;br /&gt;Who feels the way I do&lt;br /&gt;I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know&lt;br /&gt;I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in this world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Does anyone happen to be laying on 40,000 dollars I could have?  Just putting that out there.  Thinking about how to pay for my next couple years of school and that would make it SO much easier.  So, if you wanna help a girl out, I'd love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3810529032772118144?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3810529032772118144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3810529032772118144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3810529032772118144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3810529032772118144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-words-of-taylor-swift.html' title='In the words of Taylor Swift'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-437723047772835703</id><published>2008-02-12T08:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T08:51:55.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yummy</title><content type='html'>waffles for breakfast..no better way to start the day.  homemade waffles at that!   yummy yummy yummy.  Off to work...to fix up al the stuff from last night. Yippeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-437723047772835703?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/437723047772835703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=437723047772835703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/437723047772835703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/437723047772835703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/02/yummy.html' title='yummy'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6898918891893068292</id><published>2008-02-11T18:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T18:44:16.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A good day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Today, it's going to be alright&lt;br /&gt;becuase I said so!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;**********************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In the past four days I have trudged through a range of emotions. I know that the light at the end of the tunnel is only getting brighter everyday. I am so thankful for everyone that has been there to listen to me whine about all of this. So thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Today, I break out the sappy love songs and the break-up songs that are about resolutions and moving on. I think I'm back to my old self. Still healing but it's getting better and I'm looking forward to the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;**********************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Over the weekend I wrote a journal entry about different kinds of breakups. Someone was asking me how I had managed to move on so quickly. What I need people to understand is that I'm okay. I really feel like I had already resolved that it was over. It was finished, I was hanging on to something that was dead. I knew it was over but I couldn't admit it. Once I did I really felt relieved. I was happier that first week than I had been in months even with the saddness of losing my friend and my companion. He wasn't the same any more, he was someone I didn't know, and not the person that I loved anymore. This kind of breakup is so different than one that you haven't been expecting. I had already hurt through all of this, I was already healing, then by breaking it off I broke open my wound again. So, I'm okay...even if my entries have been emo. I think that I write more about the sad things because it's easier to write about than talk about it. The good things I can talk about, I can tell people about them and I don't feel strange. So, from here on out I will do my best to be more optimistic. Because really...it's not that bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;**********************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;P.S. Mom, I'm okay. Thanks for being supportive and a bit worried. I'm just emo in my blog, I am not depressed. I love you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6898918891893068292?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6898918891893068292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6898918891893068292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6898918891893068292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6898918891893068292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/02/good-day.html' title='A good day'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3089782508287036144</id><published>2008-02-07T12:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T12:59:10.314-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday</title><content type='html'>complicated doesn't even touch it&lt;br /&gt;fear runs over my strength&lt;br /&gt;the whole world fades away&lt;br /&gt;all I see is the past&lt;br /&gt;playing before my eyes&lt;br /&gt;overwhelmed and underestimated&lt;br /&gt;and all I can say is&lt;br /&gt;it hurts&lt;br /&gt;everyday&lt;br /&gt;I feel naked in front of everyone&lt;br /&gt;raw and unavailable&lt;br /&gt;still healing&lt;br /&gt;still scabbing&lt;br /&gt;still bleeding&lt;br /&gt;sure that this scar will be ugly for a LONG tim&lt;br /&gt;complicated doesn't even touch it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3089782508287036144?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3089782508287036144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3089782508287036144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3089782508287036144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3089782508287036144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/02/thursday.html' title='Thursday'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7843750420339936985</id><published>2008-01-30T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T11:17:30.997-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dusty pile of pieces</title><content type='html'>glue me together please&lt;br /&gt;for I know not how much longer&lt;br /&gt;I can stand the anguish&lt;br /&gt;of being broken&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7843750420339936985?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7843750420339936985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7843750420339936985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7843750420339936985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7843750420339936985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/dusty-pile-of-pieces.html' title='Dusty pile of pieces'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4446985378501908729</id><published>2008-01-29T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T13:10:07.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What If You</title><content type='html'>What if you&lt;br /&gt;Could wish me away&lt;br /&gt;What if you&lt;br /&gt;Spoke those words today&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if you'd miss me&lt;br /&gt;When I'm gone&lt;br /&gt;It's come to this, release me&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave before the dawn&lt;br /&gt;But for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I'll stay here with you&lt;br /&gt;Yes, for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I'll lay here with you&lt;br /&gt;But when the sun&lt;br /&gt;Hits your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Through your window&lt;br /&gt;There'll be nothing you can do&lt;br /&gt;What if you&lt;br /&gt;Could hear this song&lt;br /&gt;What if I&lt;br /&gt;Felt like I belong&lt;br /&gt;I might not be leaving&lt;br /&gt;Oh so soon&lt;br /&gt;Began the night believing&lt;br /&gt;I loved you in the moonlight&lt;br /&gt;So, for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I'll stay here with you&lt;br /&gt;Yes, for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I'll lay here with you&lt;br /&gt;But when the sun&lt;br /&gt;Hits your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Through your window&lt;br /&gt;There'll be nothing you can do&lt;br /&gt;I could've treated you better&lt;br /&gt;Better than this&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm gone, this song's your letter&lt;br /&gt;Can't stay in one place&lt;br /&gt;So, for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I'll stay here with you&lt;br /&gt;Yes, for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I'll lay here with you&lt;br /&gt;But when the sun&lt;br /&gt;Hits your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Through your window&lt;br /&gt;There'll be nothing you can do&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4446985378501908729?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4446985378501908729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4446985378501908729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4446985378501908729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4446985378501908729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-if-you.html' title='What If You'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4198643030005165169</id><published>2008-01-28T15:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T13:12:45.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It feels good...</title><content type='html'>..to laugh again. I feel like I have a genuine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;smile on&lt;/span&gt; my face today. I'm getting all of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;meanness&lt;/span&gt; out because on the first of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;February&lt;/span&gt; I have to not be mean anymore. Okay, so I'm not really that mean to begin with but I'll give it more of a concerted effort in the future. I feel so good. Every day is getting better. I'm so proud of myself for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;accomplishing&lt;/span&gt; so much this weekend. Tonight I'm going to clean my office and maybe move some things around. I can't wait to have a brand new work space. It is so exciting. I still have to go through the boxes my parents brought to my house after Christmas. I'll get through them, they just are sitting in the spare room right now. Well, I'm back to lab class for the afternoon, off to a meeting and then home to clean up. Yippee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4198643030005165169?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4198643030005165169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4198643030005165169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4198643030005165169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4198643030005165169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-feels-good.html' title='It feels good...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-3384933088508754233</id><published>2008-01-26T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T11:51:31.718-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Things Change</title><content type='html'>I feel a bit like a slacker.   I have a four page to do list.  The whole list is things that need to be cleaned, organized, moved or otherwise rearranged.  I look at my house and I try to figure out how to make it different.  How to change it so that it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; feel the same.  My guest room is looking more like a bowling room everyday.  I want to move the furniture in my bedroom around.  I think it may be to heavy for me to do it alone though.  I'll give it a try.  I want to complete deep clean my house to get out the last bits of the reminders of him.  Remove the pictures, put them away.  I look at them and my heart hurts.  I cry and I wonder when it will get better.  At school things are good.  I make it through the day without the tears, then I come home and the dog distracts me but if I catch a glimpse of him...it's all over.  I can't believe how much my life has changed in the last few weeks.  I am proud of myself.  I know that the next months will be hard.  I look forward to the project at work and taking more photos to post here.  My boss makes me feel like a complete slacker sometimes with her crafty blog that she keeps track of.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Grrr&lt;/span&gt;..for people that keep track of there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;craftiness&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;any rate&lt;/span&gt; I must return home and get back to work on my house.  I will get my list done.  I will not get it done today and for the first time in a long time I'm okay with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Life is a chance to grow a soul"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A. Powell Davies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-3384933088508754233?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/3384933088508754233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=3384933088508754233' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3384933088508754233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/3384933088508754233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-things-change.html' title='How Things Change'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7697789460448802491</id><published>2008-01-22T10:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T10:27:33.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Desire to write</title><content type='html'>I want to write about all that has been going on.  I just haven't figured out exactly what I want to say.  So much has changed in the past couplke of weeks that I feel a little bit overwhelmed.  I really want to say thank you to my friends and family.  You all have been amazing and I can't thank you enough.  My folks have been amazing, letting me bring Riley to there house and supporting me through all of this.  When I make a mess, boy do I make a big one and they have been great about helping figure out where to go from here.  I look forward to things getting much better from here on out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I hope to have photos of my mystery quilt that I have been working on.  And a new bag that I already had all the stuff to make. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to my new year starting over on the fisrt of February.  I have made new new years resolutions and intend to completely ignore this month for the rest of the year.  So, here's to starting over, starting fresh and moving in a new direction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7697789460448802491?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7697789460448802491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7697789460448802491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7697789460448802491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7697789460448802491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/desire-to-write.html' title='Desire to write'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2378924388688427921</id><published>2008-01-14T13:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T13:28:02.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>I don't know where to go from here.  I just keep telling myself to breathe.  If I can get my lungs to work, it will all be okay.  I will make it through this.  All the advice I gave my sister is going to come in handy over the next period of time.  I'm going to be okay with this.  Just breathe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A sad thing in life is that sometimes you meet someone who means a lot to you only to find out in the end that it was never bound to be and you just have to let go.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happened to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Consider how hard it is to change yourself and you'll understand what little chance you have in trying to change others.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2378924388688427921?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2378924388688427921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2378924388688427921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2378924388688427921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2378924388688427921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-6254197246154847977</id><published>2008-01-08T11:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T11:35:41.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>Aghhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all I've got to say&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-6254197246154847977?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/6254197246154847977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=6254197246154847977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6254197246154847977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/6254197246154847977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-4560662958892406495</id><published>2007-12-26T16:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T16:19:41.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What to do...</title><content type='html'>I'm between a rock and a hard place.  The only think I can think of is follow your heart.  My heart is not the best with directions, trust me I know.  I'll give it time over my vacation.  When I get back, I'll have to make a real choice.  I hate this, and I hate more that this is not my fault, but I have to do something about it.  Why does life have to be so hard?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-4560662958892406495?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/4560662958892406495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=4560662958892406495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4560662958892406495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/4560662958892406495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-to-do.html' title='What to do...'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-7604384358307266451</id><published>2007-12-21T16:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T16:21:49.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strength, Love, Hope, Success</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;“Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mahatma Gandhi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;“Don't brood. Get on with living and loving. You don't have forever.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Many of the great achievements of the world were accomplished by tired and discouraged men who kept on working.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;“Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bill Cosby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;“In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bill Cosby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-7604384358307266451?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/7604384358307266451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=7604384358307266451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7604384358307266451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/7604384358307266451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/strength-love-hope-success.html' title='Strength, Love, Hope, Success'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-9165770646220746006</id><published>2007-12-17T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T14:46:51.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For Penny</title><content type='html'>Penny- here it is the song I tried to play on the juke box which so rudely started in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dusty Drake&lt;br /&gt;Say Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've only known each other scince the moment we met&lt;br /&gt;But it seems like forever to me&lt;br /&gt;I haven't figured out the perfect way to say it yet&lt;br /&gt;But I suppose at times like these&lt;br /&gt;A man should get down on his knees&lt;br /&gt;How'd ya like to be in my wedding&lt;br /&gt;How'd ya like to walk down the isle&lt;br /&gt;You could be the center of attention&lt;br /&gt;Everyone would look at you and smile&lt;br /&gt;We could send our friends invitations&lt;br /&gt;You could wear a long white dress&lt;br /&gt;If you'd like to be in my wedding, darlin'&lt;br /&gt;All ya have to do is say, "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;Your folks could be seated in the very front row&lt;br /&gt;And cry when we all turn to look at you&lt;br /&gt;We could cut the cake&lt;br /&gt;And we could strike a pose&lt;br /&gt;Like the little bitty plastic bride and groom&lt;br /&gt;And then begin our life-long honeymoon&lt;br /&gt;How'd ya like to be in my wedding&lt;br /&gt;How'd ya like to walk down the isle&lt;br /&gt;You could be the center of attention&lt;br /&gt;Everyone would look at you and smile&lt;br /&gt;We could send our friends invitations&lt;br /&gt;You could wear a long White dress&lt;br /&gt;If you'd like to be in my wedding, darlin'&lt;br /&gt;All ya have to do is say, "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;Say, "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;Say, "Yes" (How'd ya like to be in my wedding)&lt;br /&gt;Please say, "Yes" (How'd ya like to be in my wedding)&lt;br /&gt;Say, "Yes" (How'd ya like to be in my wedding)&lt;br /&gt;(How'd ya like to be in my wedding)&lt;br /&gt;(How'd ya like to be in my wedding)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-9165770646220746006?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/9165770646220746006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=9165770646220746006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/9165770646220746006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/9165770646220746006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/for-penny.html' title='For Penny'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-5944510763121088046</id><published>2007-12-17T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T14:42:34.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what less than a week...crap!</title><content type='html'>Crap is right folks.  Here I have been thinking that I have Christ,as basically done.  Then I realize, crap.....crap crap crap I'm nowhere close.  Alright now that I have freaked out I'm back to my list.  By the way...my gift for my baby nephews...holy crap it is so cool!   Alrighty then I'm off to fetch my embroidery machine and get busy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad I'm done with all my real work this week already..now I can just focus on presents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-5944510763121088046?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/5944510763121088046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=5944510763121088046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5944510763121088046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/5944510763121088046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-less-than-weekcrap.html' title='what less than a week...crap!'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2820832639676970870</id><published>2007-12-13T15:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T13:07:54.252-04:00</updated><title type='text'>mmmm, I am in love with this sad song</title><content type='html'>"You Had Time"&lt;br /&gt;how can I go home&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;I know you're going to look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;and say what did you do out there&lt;br /&gt;and what did you decide&lt;br /&gt;you said you needed time&lt;br /&gt;and you had time&lt;br /&gt;you are a china shop&lt;br /&gt;and I am a bull&lt;br /&gt;you are really good food&lt;br /&gt;and I am full&lt;br /&gt;I guess everything is timing&lt;br /&gt;I guess everything's been said&lt;br /&gt;so I am coming home with an empty head&lt;br /&gt;you'll say did they love you or what&lt;br /&gt;I'll say they love what I do&lt;br /&gt;the only one who really loves me is you&lt;br /&gt;and you'll say girl did you kick some butt&lt;br /&gt;and I'll say I don't really remember&lt;br /&gt;but my fingers are sore&lt;br /&gt;and my voice is too&lt;br /&gt;you'll say it's really good to see you&lt;br /&gt;you'll say I missed you horribly&lt;br /&gt;you'll say let me carry that&lt;br /&gt;give that to me&lt;br /&gt;and you will take the heavy stuff&lt;br /&gt;and you will drive the car&lt;br /&gt;and I'll look out the window making jokes&lt;br /&gt;about the way things are&lt;br /&gt;how can I go home&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;I know you're going to look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;and say what did you do out there&lt;br /&gt;and what did you decide&lt;br /&gt;you said you needed time&lt;br /&gt;and you had time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2820832639676970870?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2820832639676970870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2820832639676970870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2820832639676970870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2820832639676970870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/mmmm-i-am-in-love-with-this-sad-song.html' title='mmmm, I am in love with this sad song'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-2070944026012163048</id><published>2007-12-13T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T11:35:53.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today, I am alone</title><content type='html'>Christmas break has officially sarted at school. All of the faculty and students are gone. For some stupid reason I have to hang around here until next week. I'm not coming to work tomorrow. It makes me depressed and I don't like feeling that way. So my boss is gone to the cold country. Okay really she's out on a boat this afternoon...I can't tell you how jealous I am. Although I would just end up sun burnned and miserable. Maybe I'm not so jealous. At any rate, tomorrow she heads off to the cold country and I can't help but want to go to. I'll be headed north after Christmas and I must say that I can not wait!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have major present issues going on right now. I'm having a bit of a brain cramp and can't think of anything supper cool to give to my nephews or there parents, and lets not talk about my friends here. So, while my family Christmas shopping is done, I am not done shopping in the least way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, the world is good for me right now. Things are good with Ben's job and the puppy. He hates wearing clothes, but he is just so darn cute when he does where them. Yeah I'm one of those puppy parents. I don't make him do it often and it may be the ticket to a calm Christmas at my house becuase when you but the clothes on him he just lays down and chills. Yeah I know that's mean but it isn't hurting him and it is so darn cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R2FdpPRnknI/AAAAAAAAACc/cmCZnFhN6-0/s1600-h/puppy+xmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143495212490265202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R2FdpPRnknI/AAAAAAAAACc/cmCZnFhN6-0/s320/puppy+xmas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided today to invite my brother to my house for Christmas. He really messed up awhile ago and I thought I might never forgive him, but not forgiving him is only hurting me and I'm ready to move on. He is too, as he has been making leaps and bounds to solid, contributing member of society. So, I hope he comes, and I hope he bring shis puppy Daisey. That would make my sister's holiday for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay So I guess I should get busy on the rest of my to do list for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Much Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R2FdXfRnkmI/AAAAAAAAACU/Jb8qten_7yI/s1600-h/puppy+xmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-2070944026012163048?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/2070944026012163048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=2070944026012163048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2070944026012163048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/2070944026012163048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/today-i-am-alone.html' title='Today, I am alone'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MgpupJ-8n_c/R2FdpPRnknI/AAAAAAAAACc/cmCZnFhN6-0/s72-c/puppy+xmas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-8653780734178054803</id><published>2007-12-07T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T11:12:51.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I just don't get it</title><content type='html'>I don't understand what the big deal is with this argument on the radio this morning.  McDonalds is offering a free Happy Meal to those who achieve good grades on their report card.  There is a big stink going on about how that's not fair to parents who don't allow their children to eat at McDonalds.  Oh, for heavens sake! Get over yourselves.  If you don't eat at McDonalds offer a similar reward to your child or just say, I'm sorry but we don't eat there and move on.  Will there be a fit...most likely, will they get over it...yes definitely.  Geez, don't make a stink and take away that reward from children who's parents would allow them to use their coupon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto other news, Oprah is joining the campaign trail to support Obama.  Really, she is putting her name on a candidate who has clearly shown potential, but has also demonstrated that he really doesn't have the political experience yet.  Way to go Oprah!  I honestly believe that her support is a truly dangerous thing,  she can sway public opinion.  Do we really want a president with only minimal political experience?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-8653780734178054803?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/8653780734178054803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=8653780734178054803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8653780734178054803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/8653780734178054803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-guess-i-just-dont-get-it.html' title='I guess I just don&apos;t get it'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6619725888466336826.post-1762180317634676838</id><published>2007-12-06T16:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T16:42:44.392-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Books and the like</title><content type='html'>So, I discovered this really cool thing, well rather I stole Lynnsey's book and played with it and now I can make books.  Yeah I know, one more reason to buy paper but hey, they are supper cute and will make great stocking stuffers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of myself. &lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't written lately but it's been hectic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house is CLEAN!!!!! It is so nice to not have to deal with a pile of crap when I get home.  The trick will be not lettting it get out of control again.  If you know me, you know that that is a challenge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas with my family is at my house this year.  So, I have my tree up and decorated, outside decorations up, guest room looking very inviting and my office actually looks like an office/ workroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Christmas, I love it so much, even if it is 80 degrees and doesn't really feel much like Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay...off to figure out the end of the semester and a to do list for tomorrow!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy Cow only 8 more days of work before the holiday!!!!!!!!!!  Yipee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6619725888466336826-1762180317634676838?l=pamelajoyce.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/feeds/1762180317634676838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6619725888466336826&amp;postID=1762180317634676838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1762180317634676838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6619725888466336826/posts/default/1762180317634676838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pamelajoyce.blogspot.com/2007/12/books-and-like.html' title='Books and the like'/><author><name>Pamela Joyce</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
