<?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-9190238459437104924</id><updated>2012-01-29T17:16:57.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Rapture</title><subtitle type='html'>You were wild; where are you now?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>103</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8841744752997411979</id><published>2010-09-07T19:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T19:48:54.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a new dawn.</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I might really like my job again. If everything continues the way it has been going, it's going to be an amazing year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am too exhausted to think and emote, I am spent. I was also barked at because I posted a smartass ecard on my facebook that said "For every photo that you post on Facebook of your kid, I will post one of me having a life." I think all of my childless friends can relate to this and LIKE it, but some unusual commenters came out of the woodwork to bark. Some people can't take a joke. But come on, I DO have to look at a lot of ugly babies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of those times I ought to shut my mouth, but as Ani says -- "Guess I should shut my mouth and rethink a minute; but I can't shut it now, 'cos there's something in it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have things to say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8841744752997411979?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8841744752997411979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8841744752997411979' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8841744752997411979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8841744752997411979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-new-dawn.html' title='It&apos;s a new dawn.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2853953185958700441</id><published>2010-09-06T10:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T10:23:27.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten things of which I was certain</title><content type='html'>1) That I had posted more recently than January.&lt;br /&gt;2) That I could &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; count only on myself in this world.&lt;br /&gt;3) That friends would come and go, and that was no one's fault.&lt;br /&gt;4) That though they come and go, those that I chose to surround myself with would support me unconditionally during their presence, even if that meant saying things that were hard to hear.&lt;br /&gt;5) That my animals would always love me, that that's what pets are made of: dedication.&lt;br /&gt;6) That my parents don't always understand or agree with me, but they support me in my decisions. Fortunately, their love is unconditional. &lt;br /&gt;7) That I trust people until given reason not to.&lt;br /&gt;8) That I have an infinite amount of love within me, and I thrive on giving it away.&lt;br /&gt;9) That I can have all the education in the world, but nothing compares to being fully awake, alive, and aware every day of my life; that learning never stops. &lt;br /&gt;10) That, at the end of a day, gratitude trumps everything. If it doesn't; I need to re-evaluate. Love and gratitude are the ultimate gifts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2853953185958700441?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2853953185958700441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2853953185958700441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2853953185958700441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2853953185958700441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2010/09/ten-things-of-which-i-was-certain.html' title='Ten things of which I was certain'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2154020170861966059</id><published>2010-01-04T19:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T19:34:16.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Nobody likes their job, nobody got enough sleep"</title><content type='html'>It's Monday, I'm exhausted, curled up on the couch like a cat in a corner. I've eaten too much dinner and definitely too much dessert, and taunting me are all my fb friends' posts on how much they worked out today, when they went to the gym, how great they feel, blaaaaaaaaaaah blah blah blah blah. Is this what January will be from now on? Will everyone exercise in the month of January and forget about it by Valentine's Day? In one of my darker corners, I hope so, because I have no intention of upping my current zero-workout schedule. I'll go for a walk when I feel like it, and I'll eat properly after the Epiphany, but I'm not going to fake it and pretend I'm becoming a workout fiend. I respect that some people love it, good for them, but my nightmare is walking into that sweaty-humid room and touching sweaty equipment that 300 people before me that day have already germified. Give me a break. I'd rather walk for 12 straight hours than climb onto a stairmaster for 10 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone left an anonymous comment on one of my posts here and it's driving me crazy. Why must people be anonymous? I want to know who you are; make yourself known here! Yes, I know I need to get creative and write something of worth...but if you haven't gleaned it from the first paragraph, let me clarify: I loathe New Year's Resolutions. I think they're crap. I'm going to write because I want to, not because I can suddenly resolve to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and here's the quote of the day, thanks to Luca.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so?! There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.” - Drew Carey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2154020170861966059?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2154020170861966059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2154020170861966059' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2154020170861966059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2154020170861966059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2010/01/nobody-likes-their-job-nobody-got.html' title='&quot;Nobody likes their job, nobody got enough sleep&quot;'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4526650992424055875</id><published>2009-12-19T18:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T18:26:23.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>winterblue</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/4197951685/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2508/4197951685_e05654fdac.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/4197951685/"&gt;winterblue&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;Erica's Island&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	just trying to save it&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4526650992424055875?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4526650992424055875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4526650992424055875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4526650992424055875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4526650992424055875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2009/12/winterblue.html' title='winterblue'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2508/4197951685_e05654fdac_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-1136465429701822515</id><published>2009-11-19T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T22:03:02.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Lost Friend</title><content type='html'>It's been forever since I've seen you, my beloved words spilling forth, and I have been lost and lonely for you. Pull me close to you, hold me tightly, love me. I can no longer live without you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Sam, for the light, and K.c. for the reminder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-1136465429701822515?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/1136465429701822515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=1136465429701822515' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1136465429701822515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1136465429701822515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2009/11/long-lost-friend.html' title='Long Lost Friend'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5829130261209285682</id><published>2009-02-04T18:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T21:59:51.042-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heather Nova - Winter Blue..</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LIyxzeGQzS4&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LIyxzeGQzS4&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5829130261209285682?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5829130261209285682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5829130261209285682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5829130261209285682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5829130261209285682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2009/02/heather-nova-winter-blue.html' title='Heather Nova - Winter Blue..'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5943635382841212927</id><published>2009-01-17T23:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T23:49:33.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is that? (Τι είναι αυτό;) 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/mNK6h1dfy2o' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/mNK6h1dfy2o'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank you, John.&lt;br /&gt;xoe&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5943635382841212927?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5943635382841212927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5943635382841212927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5943635382841212927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5943635382841212927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-is-that-2007.html' title='What is that? (Τι είναι αυτό;) 2007'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4807150746495303050</id><published>2008-12-19T20:20:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T20:51:00.748-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmastime!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SUxPBFT_OeI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5lCZ5hYkNN4/s1600-h/2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SUxPBFT_OeI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5lCZ5hYkNN4/s400/2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281683343023225314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, Love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am as happy as happy can be. I've decided to accept whatever chaos they want to hand me when it comes to that dress because it's one day and I get the man. That's all I want out of this...that man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a snow day today, the last day before our 2-week winter recess. I went to bed @ 1:30am after staying up up up talking with everyone, ending with Anne and her awful work story after the play. (He's a jackass and everyone knows it. Screw him.) Then my sister called a few minutes after 5am to say it was a snow day, and i was so enthralled with the darkness, the freedom, the quiet, and wide expanse of ANYTHING ahead of me, that I curled up in bed, chatted with overseas friends (they're all awake in Europe, the best time to catch them) and listened to the heat click on and off, the scratching of branch fingers against the cedar shakes. It was a beautiful, slow morning, and I didn't let myself go back to sleep because I HAD to go into the village for my meds before the snow took over. Finally I got up, threw on leggings, Uggs, and a zip fleece (couldn't even bother with the bra, just wanted to rush out and back into bed and this would keep  me from wandering around town) but while I was standing in line at the post office, the clerk was eyeing me like I was fine. I giggled my way to the counter because I found it utterly ridiculous that this was acceptable to him, but you never know. It was just lovely to exchange friendly season's greetings with someone rather than deal with ornery nonsense. Everyone was bustling about trying to get things done before the storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The storm!&lt;br /&gt;Over a foot in less than 6 hours; it's gorgeous!&lt;br /&gt;I napped, ate, showered, shoveled, and I'm perched on the couch in front of the Christmas tree, Cary Grant is on TCM (The Bishop's Wife) and life is just so sweet. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namaste~&lt;br /&gt;xoe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Now WHY did the treetop get cut off when this photo uploaded? ah well...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4807150746495303050?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4807150746495303050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4807150746495303050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4807150746495303050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4807150746495303050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmastime.html' title='Christmastime!'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SUxPBFT_OeI/AAAAAAAAAHI/5lCZ5hYkNN4/s72-c/2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4221337823931570749</id><published>2008-12-19T20:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T20:19:52.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ha ha hah haaaaaa!</title><content type='html'>Love this! It's for you, R! I'm just smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89aQ_F64NPs"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't really wanna stay with me, oh no...&lt;/a&gt; (click it!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4221337823931570749?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89aQ_F64NPs' title='Ha ha hah haaaaaa!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4221337823931570749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4221337823931570749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4221337823931570749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4221337823931570749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/12/ha-ha-hah-haaaaaa.html' title='Ha ha hah haaaaaa!'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-7292457042632602943</id><published>2008-11-22T12:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T12:52:42.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>were it were done well</title><content type='html'>I think it's finally done.&lt;br /&gt;As unpleasant and sad as it all is, I know it needs to happen. I am tired of goodbyes.&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param value="http://youtube.com/v/r_1dYljdOT0" name="movie"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/r_1dYljdOT0" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-7292457042632602943?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/7292457042632602943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=7292457042632602943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7292457042632602943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7292457042632602943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/11/thomas-dolby-i-love-you-goodbye.html' title='were it were done well'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4882990220305123951</id><published>2008-11-13T19:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T19:27:06.424-05:00</updated><title type='text'>November answer to his request that I choose.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;HERE'S what I HAVE to say...and I DO have to say it in order to clear my soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate you for this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate you because I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you want me back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate the memory that as I plead with you in the driveway, I see you giving me the finger as you peel out and speed away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I'm waiting by the side of the road with your dog in my backseat and you speed past me to get to work, ignoring me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I felt so abandoned for so many days and weeks and months and YEARS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I came home on a snowy Tuesday to find you had vanished, completely, to leave me in a screaming, sobbing heap on the stairwell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you never called in the days afterward while I dissolved into a fraction of who I had been.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate all the times you never gave me your phone number, and when I called my house from your phone to have it, you showed nothing but rejection and disappointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you didn't tell me where you lived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that when I found out and showed up on yet another winter night, knocking on your door and throwing stones at your window, begging to see you, you turned off the lights &amp;amp; ignored me all night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you kicked me out of all the places you lived to be AWAY from me and now you pull THIS and tell me I have to want it when my sticking by you all along should have been fucking proof beyond proof that I would have done anything for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you yelled that I, too, kicked you out when I wanted you to cool down because the fact that you ALWAYS had a key because YOU LIVED HERE and I ALWAYS wanted you here should have been evidence that I never really kicked you out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I stood by you through your alcoholism and sobering and college and ALWAYS made excuses and reasons and explanations for you no matter what I wanted and how much I didn't give a shit WHERE else you wanted to be or chose to be because DAMMIT you SHOULD have been NEXT TO ME. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I ALWAYS chose to focus on the positive with you, no matter how much negative attempted to overshadow it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that all I wanted was to be near you, to spend time with you, to be close enough to touch you, to laugh with you, to hear your voice and your thoughts, and be in the company of the man I loved beyond all understanding and believed was my soulmate on this planet, but was told to leave, pushed out, left crying on doorsteps, and yelled at, on even that very last day, told that I was not wanted there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you didn't get it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you said you did, but didn't act like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you lied to me about being committed to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you lied to me about ANYTHING.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that of COURSE I have things I would do differently and that I know I wasn't perfect, but that I DO know my love for you WAS perfect because I couldn't have accepted you any more or loved you any better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you made me wait for the crumbs from your table, and I tolerated it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate how many times you made me a fool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that on September 6, 2004, I lit 365 candles to commemorate your 365 days of sobriety and all you could do was sit paralyzed in fear that I was about to ask you to marry me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you left for China for months without even considering me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I proposed after your return from China and you barked out a NO while we were in bed and I had to sadly take back the ring and put it into the drawer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that when we made love, nothing else matters because it was communion, it was body and soul, it was life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that the second to last time we made love was the best it ever was and the very last time we made love was the worst.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you sat next to me at Le Petit Bistro rubbed my back and looked into my eyes whiile you told me I was your girl a week and a half before breaking up with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you tried to break up with me a dozen times before July 9 and for some reason I wouldn't accept it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I spent so much time listening to cars and motorcycles on the road, hoping they were yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that no mater how many times you came, I always felt you leaving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you taught me how to cook and now you're not here to see how amazing I've become at it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate how much I miss your family, how you took them away from me though they didn't belong to me, and how I will not see the children grow up or have Kathy and hers in my life no matter how close we were and how much I loved them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you continue to become the person I always knew you had inside you, and you kicked me out as I stood on the precipice with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that this still tears me up inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that we were best friends and soulmates and yet you've cut me so deeply that I'll never heal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that as I write this I'm crying because I'd like to be over it but I know I may never be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you finally want to give me what I deserved all along now that someone else is giving it to me every second, without thinking twice, because it's instinct to give so willingly and openly to someone you love and treasure so dearly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you couldn't do what he does every single day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I had to cry the day I got off the plane in England because as soon as we got back to his house and his friend asked him to go out, the first thing out of his mouth was "My love is here, and I don't take a step without her," and I had never been so regarded, so well-loved, so considered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that if I weren't with Attila I'd probably go back to you, despite the contrary begging of everyone close to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that it took another man to show me what a relationship should be when YOU should have been the one to show me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate all the times you asked me to marry you and then backed out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that now you expect me to believe that you really want it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that if I went back to you I'd always have to wonder if it was enough for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that you made me shine and took your light away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that I will always love you, and there's not a thing any human being can do about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that everyone but me knew it was over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that it will never be over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that because I have all these memories and experiences; I can never go back to you and be a healthy woman. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I love him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;I love myself; and because I do, I am saying goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4882990220305123951?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4882990220305123951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4882990220305123951' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4882990220305123951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4882990220305123951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/11/november-answer-to-his-request-that-i.html' title='November answer to his request that I choose.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4581752097087946037</id><published>2008-11-01T14:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T21:54:45.548-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not a zombie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SQycLHjBaJI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hlzQn4JohKs/s1600-h/mummies+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SQycLHjBaJI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hlzQn4JohKs/s400/mummies+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263753779307702418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Halloween was fun...but exhausting and trying all the same. The costumes turned out well and were fun, and I got the strangest array of comments and compliments. Some people (friends!) didn't even recognize me, but I think the best part of it was that my spirit is back. Last year I felt nothing, but this year I am revved up for everything and everyone. HAPPY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Now it's November 1st, warm and quiet, grey and orange. Ati strung together and sent me a collection of short videos I took of him (us) that were left in England on his video camera and as I watched and heard it in my voice...that happy peace. I miss that man. I'm tempted to post the video but I think everyone else would be BORED, so I'm just watching it myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Yesterday, Bonnie asked me how much weight I'd lost. After I told her, she asked me if I noticed any loss in my breasts, and I said no. She said "Don't you hate that?" I said "No! I love them!" and while she was explaining how the size of hers was bothersome to her no matter how much weight she lost, I wanted to tell her that what she actually needed was a decent bra to hoist up her own girls rather than have them loitering around her waist like they are now. I mean come on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Oh, on another note, A, Hag, and I had a 3-way conversation last night and I'm so relieved to hear that the Hag is back to his buddhist-enlightened, aware, pervy self. A and I were worried. Now if only he would stop referring to himself in deli-meat similes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4581752097087946037?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4581752097087946037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4581752097087946037' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4581752097087946037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4581752097087946037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-not-zombie.html' title='I&apos;m not a zombie'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SQycLHjBaJI/AAAAAAAAAHA/hlzQn4JohKs/s72-c/mummies+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4829454440421007393</id><published>2008-10-26T19:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:31:31.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anonymous</title><content type='html'>I cared this morning when I read it; I don't care now. Whatever you think or however hurt you are is neither my fault nor my problem. At least own your anger and seek peace rather than trying to upset me to alleviate your pain. If I did something to wrong you, tell me and I'll do what I can to make it better; but let's try to heal and not tear down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4829454440421007393?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4829454440421007393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4829454440421007393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4829454440421007393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4829454440421007393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/anonymous.html' title='Anonymous'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4094288144002118932</id><published>2008-10-23T21:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T21:16:27.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Roses</title><content type='html'>Why did he step on my heart again tonight? I was reaching out in peace and wellness, always looking for it, always working toward it. I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I have to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvNcsgJ2RBA"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvNcsgJ2RBA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvNcsgJ2RBA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4094288144002118932?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4094288144002118932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4094288144002118932' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4094288144002118932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4094288144002118932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/black-roses.html' title='Black Roses'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-6533538760866194833</id><published>2008-10-22T20:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:05:12.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If</title><content type='html'>If I had anything interesting to say, I'd surely be saying it. This week is getting away from me and I just keep going going trying to forge ahead toward something. I need to re-organize and get some structure and some type of PLAN going on, because all I do is work and get home from work avoiding everything overwhelming but nothing gets done. 9:04 and what have I done...a whole lot after work, and then I get home and it feels like a whole lot of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whine whine whine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking into the red dress.&lt;br /&gt;You know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-6533538760866194833?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/6533538760866194833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=6533538760866194833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6533538760866194833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6533538760866194833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/if.html' title='If'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4604981295092890833</id><published>2008-10-20T21:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T21:36:03.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>baby steps</title><content type='html'>I'm having a tough time tonight. Addictions are strong and long-lasting, and right now I'm struggling. I understand more than every the absolute PULL of the very thing you know you don't want, and how it SEEMS like you want it. I want it, but I want the feeling, albeit temporary, of the relief of the adrenaline rush...not the inevitable drop afterward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm just struggling. I'm sick of the overseas diplomatic nonsense and miles of red tape. I think it's been enough. It's my turn now, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4604981295092890833?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4604981295092890833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4604981295092890833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4604981295092890833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4604981295092890833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/baby-steps.html' title='baby steps'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-251004733497098260</id><published>2008-10-19T14:52:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T14:58:49.437-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Breast Cancer Awareness Month</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPuC1Ar_NqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RiWydXFynVY/s1600-h/Breast+Cancer+Awareness+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPuC1Ar_NqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RiWydXFynVY/s400/Breast+Cancer+Awareness+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258940837114361506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I used this as my profile photo because it's so easy to forget how many are affected by breast cancer...by cancer of any type...how many are still suffering, how vanquished we felt when told we were afflicted. Mine wasn't breast cancer, but I got the news all the same, and the feeling of confusion--the body betraying itself--will linger indefinitely. Walk for the cure, give a dollar, give some time, give your support any way you can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-251004733497098260?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/251004733497098260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=251004733497098260' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/251004733497098260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/251004733497098260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/breast-cancer-awareness-month.html' title='Breast Cancer Awareness Month'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPuC1Ar_NqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RiWydXFynVY/s72-c/Breast+Cancer+Awareness+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8899535218639882008</id><published>2008-10-18T22:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:52:01.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>out at night, photos she took</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/2912896122/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3124/2912896122_3614c038d8_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/2912896122/"&gt;out at night, photos she took&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;Erica's Island&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;she went walking before and after dark, thinking of everything and nothing at once.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8899535218639882008?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8899535218639882008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8899535218639882008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8899535218639882008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8899535218639882008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/out-at-night-photos-she-took.html' title='out at night, photos she took'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3124/2912896122_3614c038d8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2669529105619755784</id><published>2008-10-18T22:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T09:00:06.522-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Post Script</title><content type='html'>I had a revelation today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know how succinctly I can encapsulate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've long been grappling with the current lack of craziness, the lack of daily to semi-daily adrenaline rushes in my life with Attila. It has been work every single day, regular practice and attention to the fact that my relationship is HEALTHY and that just because I've never known it doesn't mean it's not right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I love is that every single time Attila picks up the phone, every single day, I hear the exact joy I always wanted from every man I've ever loved. I hear the joy, the appreciation, the adoration, and more than anything, the welcome. I am welcomed into that life, and it is everything I always wanted to be. I have had it in my head that without the craziness, love is absent. I have sought the highs because &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must &lt;/span&gt;be love! They were the highs not of love but of fear. This is a constant relief, and I am just not used to the lack of the highs and inevitable lows. In the past year I have asked myself hundreds of times if this is who and how I am now, if this is truly me, and I keep coming back to yes, yes, yes. I loved those moments, those years I spent with other men, but I was only half of what I could have been because I was always trying to prove myself and my worth, how wonderful it was to be with me, how lovable I really am. My life is no longer in jeopardy. I don't know how long it will take to acclimate to this life, but I am happy here in this new place. I think I'll stay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2669529105619755784?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2669529105619755784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2669529105619755784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2669529105619755784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2669529105619755784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/double-post-script.html' title='Double Post Script'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-181737609492267372</id><published>2008-10-18T22:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:23:54.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, p.s.</title><content type='html'>I need a new ringtone. Give me a good song NOW. I'm sick of the old nonsense and I want something that brings joy every time I hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am NOT caring for hearing Kings of Leon on the Today show for special investigations and the TBS introductions for Major League Baseball. No mainstreaming, PLEASE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-181737609492267372?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/181737609492267372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=181737609492267372' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/181737609492267372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/181737609492267372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-ps.html' title='Oh, p.s.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4914654060298239072</id><published>2008-10-18T21:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:09:53.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;What a wonderful day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I got up around 7:45 and felt SO completely refreshed and ALIVE...and I know it had everything to do with the long talk I had with Abra and Ray last night. I happily jumped out of bed, threw on Ati's clothes, and flew over to Laura's to feed Cayleigh. While I was there I logged on and goofed around online while I kept Cayleigh company. Liz caught me online and told me about a great sale, and I said let's go NOW. I hadn't showered or even put on CLEAN clothes, but off we went. She was looking for some housewares and I the final pieces of our big halloween-costume extravaganza. A quick outing turned into an all-day affair with my trying travel incognito because I looked like all kinds of hell, but I was happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;We ended up 2 stores down from the shop where my wedding dress is waiting patiently, and seeing as they called me several times to ask what I planned to do, I dropped in and tried it on. It's HUGE on me now. It needs to be taken WAY in, which is better than needing to be let out. I don't even know when I'll be getting married, so we're not going to start altering it just yet. I did have a large episode of remorse that I didn't go with my original wish for a red dress, that I got sucked into the world of white weddings, but I don't know what I can do about that now. It is what it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I'm exhausted! I spent a lot of money today and for what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Oh Ati, I took some photos around dawn, the leaves and the grass wrapped in frost. I took them for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;I miss everyone who knows me, loves me, gets me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Namaste~xoe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4914654060298239072?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4914654060298239072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4914654060298239072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4914654060298239072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4914654060298239072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/10/saturday-night.html' title='Saturday Night'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4761730419597558520</id><published>2008-09-29T20:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:02:57.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kings Of Leon - Sex On Fire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/HHhhcKxflMY' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/HHhhcKxflMY'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can never thank you enough, Peach.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4761730419597558520?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4761730419597558520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4761730419597558520' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4761730419597558520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4761730419597558520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/09/kings-of-leon-sex-on-fire.html' title='Kings Of Leon - Sex On Fire'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4820206274431989680</id><published>2008-09-29T18:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T18:32:39.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Flaming Roses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/attilaracz/2899293159/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2899293159_f5fd374668_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/attilaracz/2899293159/"&gt;Flaming Roses&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/attilaracz/"&gt;Attila Racz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Happy Birthday.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4820206274431989680?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4820206274431989680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4820206274431989680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4820206274431989680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4820206274431989680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/09/flaming-roses.html' title='Flaming Roses'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2899293159_f5fd374668_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5540873300398875862</id><published>2008-09-25T18:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T18:17:18.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rachael Yamagata - Worn Me Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/O8V6Y3YjBAI' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/O8V6Y3YjBAI'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love it. Seriously.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5540873300398875862?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5540873300398875862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5540873300398875862' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5540873300398875862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5540873300398875862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/09/rachael-yamagata-worn-me-down.html' title='Rachael Yamagata - Worn Me Down'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3207419670240971520</id><published>2008-09-22T14:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T22:10:47.149-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Internet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;font-size:100%;"&gt;Yes, it's true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;"&gt;I'm an addict.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;"&gt;I can't even tear myself away for a day. The computer is too tempting. If it's not email, it's Facebook. If I'm not on Etsy, I'm checking some other forums my friends and I frequent.  I check my school email and my 2 other email accounts. I read the news, book reviews, goodreads updates, blah blah blah blah BLAH! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;"&gt;I have a real problem. I spend ENTIRELY too much time online, wasting my life. It's time for a break. This week I'll log on to check my email at work (I had gmail forwarded here and my aol won't forward but there's a vacation response) and do whatever internet business needs to be done; and I'll use the computer at home ONLY to talk with Attila and save $34,795 on phone bills. Other than that, I'm off. It's a sickness. I may need a 12 step. I'll either seek methadone or become really creatively productive. I'm hoping for the latter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;"&gt;Love you...write me at work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;"&gt;xoe&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/9190238459437104924-3207419670240971520?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3207419670240971520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3207419670240971520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3207419670240971520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3207419670240971520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/09/no-internet.html' title='No Internet'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3709402599945273084</id><published>2008-07-13T16:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T16:32:59.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="width: 400px; background-color: #000000; border: 1px solid #110000;" cellspacing="1"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Greed:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #330011; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;Medium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 106px; background: #660033;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Gluttony:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #440011; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;High&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 126px; background: #770022;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Wrath:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #220011; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;Low&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 46px; background: #330077;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Sloth:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #440011; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;High&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 116px; background: #770022;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Envy:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #110022; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;Very Low&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 16px; background: #110099;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Lust:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #550011; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;Very High&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 160px; background: #990022;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="width: 85px; border: none; padding: 7px; background-color: #331111;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: #ffffff; font: bold 13px arial, 'sans serif';"&gt;Pride:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: #330011; width: 85px; border: none; font: normal 13px arial, 'sans serif'; padding: 7px; color: #ffffff;"&gt;Medium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="border: none; background-color: #331111; width: 200px; vertical-align: middle; padding: 5px; padding-left: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="height: 14px; border: 1px solid #000000; border-left: none; font-size: 8px; padding: 0px; line-height: 8px; width: 72px; background: #660033;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the &lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/seven_deadly_sins.html" target="_top"&gt;Seven Deadly Sins&lt;/a&gt; Quiz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3709402599945273084?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3709402599945273084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3709402599945273084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3709402599945273084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3709402599945273084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/07/greed-medium-gluttony-high-wrath-low.html' title=''/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8924427591627147332</id><published>2008-06-03T20:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T07:52:17.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>on.the.train.to.brighton</title><content type='html'>Here is the man who gets shy once the camera is facing him, and always tells me I'm too close for a portrait. I wonder how soon he'll learn that when I'm this close, I'm shooting a movie! He's tough to understand because he's quiet and there's an accent involved, but I hope you can hear the happiness in my voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-46426f364602c8c6" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D46426f364602c8c6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331510132%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3EB113B0D42FDBCBB07E53D459026845A42DFF15.40372C75E8461729A5F04EA3CEEA54335460D454%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D46426f364602c8c6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DRKpqWx8FXNTNT_5R22DKR1JKEFA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D46426f364602c8c6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331510132%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3EB113B0D42FDBCBB07E53D459026845A42DFF15.40372C75E8461729A5F04EA3CEEA54335460D454%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D46426f364602c8c6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DRKpqWx8FXNTNT_5R22DKR1JKEFA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8924427591627147332?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=46426f364602c8c6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8924427591627147332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8924427591627147332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8924427591627147332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8924427591627147332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/06/onthetraintobrighton.html' title='on.the.train.to.brighton'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-866101116197558009</id><published>2008-05-09T22:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T22:31:35.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>They can't have me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param value="http://youtube.com/v/PUwJ0Pl-JSE" name="movie"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/PUwJ0Pl-JSE" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;I got a love, and I know that it's all mine.&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me.&lt;br /&gt;Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me.&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me away: A secret place.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet escape: Take me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me away to better days.&lt;br /&gt;Take me away: A hiding place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;I got a love, and I know that it's all mine.&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me.&lt;br /&gt;Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me.&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;I got a love, and I know that it's all mine.&lt;br /&gt;Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish that you could, but you ain't gonna own me.&lt;br /&gt;Do anything you can to control me.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me away: A secret place.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet escape: Take me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me away to better days.&lt;br /&gt;Take me away: A hiding place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a place that I go,&lt;br /&gt;But nobody knows.&lt;br /&gt;Where the rivers flow,&lt;br /&gt;And I call it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's no more lies.&lt;br /&gt;In the darkness, there's light.&lt;br /&gt;And nobody cries.&lt;br /&gt;There's only butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me away: A secret place.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet escape: Take me away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take me away to better days.&lt;br /&gt;Take me away: A hiding place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun is on my side.&lt;br /&gt;Take me for a ride.&lt;br /&gt;I smile up to the sky.&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll be all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-866101116197558009?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/866101116197558009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=866101116197558009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/866101116197558009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/866101116197558009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/05/they-can-have-me.html' title='They can&amp;#39;t have me.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-1977043284069072414</id><published>2008-04-27T01:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T01:16:14.105-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I will begin...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/2423482110/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2306/2423482110_7c12b364d0_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/2423482110/"&gt;mmmmmmmmmmm&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Love, I haven't forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;I will write everything, everything of you, of me and us, of my time with you and everything inside and around us. I will begin soon. I am still picking the flowers from the bouquet and looking at each and every one for its beauty. I still breathe in the scents and let them flood me, eyes closed, remembering. I miss you.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-1977043284069072414?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/1977043284069072414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=1977043284069072414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1977043284069072414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1977043284069072414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-will-begin_27.html' title='I will begin...'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2306/2423482110_7c12b364d0_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-6237060690428249241</id><published>2008-02-25T21:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T17:47:39.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sexy Fiance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/2292985706/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2310/2292985706_1e68bca901_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/2292985706/"&gt;My Sexy Fiance on the last day of his service.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;oh&lt;br /&gt;my&lt;br /&gt;God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, this guy doesn't even smoke, but on this day perhaps there was a celebration. What I DO know is that I find this picture DAMN SEXY and knowing that his thighs are as fantastic as they look in this picture just TOTALLY turns me on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I may be alone in my attraction to this photo with all the military garb and the one-man arsenal and the testosterone, but DAMN I find this photo AMAZING. It's several years old, but he just shared it with me today. I think the fact that he was a NATO Peacekeeper elevates his role away from aggressor toward protector. I respect the nobility of it. Of course it's also that I find him one of the gentlest men I've ever met. I like that he can simultaneously be this strong, solid protector and a kind, gentle soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's back from Hungary and I'm SO glad to see his smiling face... it MADE MY DAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy never ceases to amaze me. GOD I'm happy!&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-6237060690428249241?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/6237060690428249241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=6237060690428249241' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6237060690428249241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6237060690428249241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-sexy-fiance-on-last-day-of-his.html' title='My Sexy Fiance'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2310/2292985706_1e68bca901_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-7983854217164357095</id><published>2008-02-19T22:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T22:32:01.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Today was an insanely busy workday...I really haven't slowed down much but it's 10:22 and I must think about getting to bed. I had a wonderful day, only to arrive home to an incorrect parcel from my ex, who then proceeded to lie up a storm and contradict himself over and over until there were simply no words. Laughable indeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;After that brief yet ridiculous conversation I headed in to print the photos with the date and learned how to set my camera to use the pictbridge function and it went so smoothly I could kiss whomever invented the dang thing. While things were printing I watched the movie I took of Attila in our London flat as he made me laugh hysterically. I felt SO wonderful...then Anne needed a particular type of poetry and I retrieved a book from the shelf and read some poems aloud. We had a solidly soulful talk minus personal sadness, and have been on the phone since. Oooh...we're up to 7 hours on the phone. I just told her and she said "Really? Feels like 20 minutes." Exactly. We've printed, read, cooked, researched online, written letters, paid bills, packed FedEx parcels, sketched moon journal covers, discussed tomorrow's eclipse, and run the gamut of joyous lives. It's a gift. She's probably coming for her spring break, which is right before my spring break! I'll take a few days off and we'll go south to try on wedding dresses. I'm SO excited! My curriculum fair, class play, and yearly observation will be OVER and I'll be in the free zone. It's wonderful news.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Today was a good day after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Szeretlek,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;♥e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-7983854217164357095?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/7983854217164357095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=7983854217164357095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7983854217164357095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7983854217164357095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/tuesday.html' title='Tuesday'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-6182320137683669964</id><published>2008-02-18T22:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T22:38:29.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>♥Valentine♥</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BEST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;ONE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;EVER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;No need for extravagance, only true love and genuine interest in ME and doing right by me. Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest of the weekend, nothing huge other than an effort to retrieve my last loose ends from my ex but as per his usual modus operandi, he created drama, pitted me as the instigator, and tried to draw me in only to run away pointing and laughing. My thoughts on that are that I really don't care. I was irritated because I did NOT like the feeling when it was happening within the relationship, but all these months later when I've been so far from it, it is an uncomfortable reminder of the past. It shook me, but I came out of it damn quickly. My love with Attila is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so &lt;/span&gt;complete...when I was weeping for the past, he said "There is a happy future." He could not have done or said any better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact:&lt;br /&gt;"thank you sweetie&lt;br /&gt;you know&lt;br /&gt;when I feel I hate the world&lt;br /&gt;I always just want you&lt;br /&gt;nothing else&lt;br /&gt;just you&lt;br /&gt;being with you&lt;br /&gt;all the time&lt;br /&gt;because&lt;br /&gt;I know&lt;br /&gt;you are the person&lt;br /&gt;who understands me&lt;br /&gt;and loves me&lt;br /&gt;and wants me...&lt;br /&gt;it's a frickin good feeling."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it is, Love.&lt;br /&gt;Yes it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/9190238459437104924-6182320137683669964?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/6182320137683669964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=6182320137683669964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6182320137683669964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6182320137683669964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-day.html' title='&amp;hearts;Valentine&amp;hearts;'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3988211214262154336</id><published>2008-02-13T16:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T17:15:26.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally</title><content type='html'>After being unbelievably sick for 11 days I went to the doctor who told me YES, I was QUITE sick, and gave me antibiotics and steroids. It's now Wednesday and after having negligible, interrupted sleep for a week, I slept 12 hours last night. Now I have a serious sleep hangover, and I'm getting NOTHING accomplished today. What I love is that tomorrow is an easy day...&amp;hearts;Valentine's Day!&amp;hearts;... at work and then a 4-day weekend ahead! There is plenty of time to get things done but I just wish this house were CLEAN for the weekend. I'd love some freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting a lot of diverging opinions on the wedding plans. Some people say KEEP IT SIMPLE and do as little as possible to keep the 2 of you happy. Then I get those who say HEY it's your ONE DAY and your one wedding, which is true; but I don't need to be a princess or go with the Plan B wedding at some cookie-cutter hotel reception room, I just want us to be ourselves and celebrate how lucky and happy we are. I don't know what to do, I really don't. We're talking about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ravenous this week, RAVENOUS, and no meeting tonight! PROBLEM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blame this on Anne...she's the one who introduced me to these damn laze-inducing flannel lounge pants. Damn the electric fence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3988211214262154336?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3988211214262154336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3988211214262154336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3988211214262154336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3988211214262154336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/finally.html' title='Finally'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2343447392254930656</id><published>2008-02-10T20:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T20:53:52.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Got those lowdown Sunday blues</title><content type='html'>I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;I think I could manage, even muster optimism, if I were not so sick (even after all this time) and it were not so shockingly windy and cold outside. The whipping wind compels me to stay inside, undercover, braced against the cold. I can scarcely breathe, I'm probably overmedicating, and I have no interest in prettying up for anything. To make matters worse -- or maybe better -- is that my sister and I have to plan and throw my parents' 40th wedding anniversary party, money money money, and then pay for my own wedding? Just feels a little off. My parents said we could have money or a honeymoon as our wedding gift and Attila and I chose the honeymoon, but still it would have been nice if they had offered to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;help &lt;/span&gt;with the wedding. It's irritating enough that Attila and I are separated...we talk about it constantly and HATE it and the whole effing procedure to get him over here; but add onto that trying to plan my parents party, pay for that, arrange a wedding and pay for THAT, and I just don't want to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here's an immediate update!&lt;br /&gt;Attila and I have been online together for a few hours, and we JUST spoke about the wedding and when I told him how I was feeling, he said he was feeling the EXACT same way. We've decided to do otherwise. We're just going to wake up one day or just look at the forecast sometime and say "HEY, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;THAT'S &lt;/span&gt;the day," and we'll make some calls and pack some picnics and just head to the beach to get married. We are SO in sync with this I just love it. I know this will ruffle feathers but I don't care because we have to do what's right for US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh* relief!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if only it would snow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2343447392254930656?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2343447392254930656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2343447392254930656' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2343447392254930656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2343447392254930656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/got-those-lowdown-sunday-blues.html' title='Got those lowdown Sunday blues'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2604992294217556110</id><published>2008-02-07T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T21:51:44.397-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Protectors, big and small</title><content type='html'>Today was a great day, especially considering I skipped the stuff I just didn't want to do. I was too sickly and exhausted after work to do anything but drag my sorry self home and climb into bed. I spoke with Attila for a few hours before he went to bed, and he took such good care of me, even from a distance. That man is so incredibly loving and emotive. It's so genuine...I can see it in his face...and I am the priority in his life. Finally! In any event, Attila went to bed and then Anne and I began watching the dog show. I don't know why but we really enjoy those. If only this current dog didn't so turn me off to having a dog of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite feeling like absolute garbage due to this virus, it was Chinese New Year (Gung Hey Fat Choy!) and the entire day was devoted to activities surrounding the holiday. The kids were extraordinary, we had tons of fun and did LOTS of projects; and walking out to the buses, five boys walked along the sidewalk together, arms over shoulders, a wall of friendship. It doesn't get better than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Szeretlek,&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2604992294217556110?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2604992294217556110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2604992294217556110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2604992294217556110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2604992294217556110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/protectors-big-and-small.html' title='Protectors, big and small'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-1727041682510254443</id><published>2008-02-05T21:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T21:43:12.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Relatively Un-Super Tuesday</title><content type='html'>It's beyond me who's reading this these days. I knew of about 3 people...my friends...who did, as most of the writing was just my own daily therapy; but somehow I drop in to write and no fewer than 5 people have been here. That looks like a pitiful number, but seeing as I took a 2-month hiatus, I'm curious. Whomever you are, drop me a comment, say hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dragged myself to work, late as usual, and could barely hear. My entire head is one big container for whatever fluid has decided to take up residence. It's 9:30 and I just finished my report card comments for the evening. It's been a long day, and I'm just glad I'm over the residual anger that came over me last night. I had a temporary lapse and felt SUCH anger for the past, but as soon as Attila told me "Hey, don't even think about it! Think about you and me...there's nothing left to be angry over, and you can focus on what makes you happy." Usually that'd be too reductive for me, but it's absolutely true. I think the struggle was that while I don't long for ANY of that past life, I get angry over past behaviors and general treatment. My feelings aren't about desire or longing, love or ANYTHING positive...I have some occasional anger and I just loathe the whole experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attila I love. My moon my man. What I would have done without his friendship...and his ever-evolving adoration and dedication, his honesty, forthrightness, and absolute presence in every way EVERY SINGLE DAY since we met...I don't want to imagine. I am healthier than ever, and I guess anger is a normal emotion. Just because I don't usually feel any doesn't mean it doesn't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-1727041682510254443?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/1727041682510254443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=1727041682510254443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1727041682510254443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1727041682510254443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/relatively-un-super-tuesday.html' title='A Relatively Un-Super Tuesday'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5189672135993486666</id><published>2008-02-04T16:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:31.437-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The comfort of big pots bubbling.</title><content type='html'>I was on my way home from a half-day (too sick to make it through a full one) when I realized what I really needed was a bit pot of homemade soup. I stopped for a few essentials and spent the next couple of hours making cornbread (with the fresh white corn sprinkled throughout the batter) and mushroom beef barley, with a slew of creminis sauteed with a little onion in savory butter. I threw in a little sage while the beef was browning and it turned out perfectly. I look forward to feasting on it all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 4:22 and I'm snuggled under the covers with my arm-warmers on because it's just so cold in my bedroom. This is the way I like it, but the contrast between this room and the rest of the house makes me shiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I really love my engagement ring. It's SO me, and I knew it right away. I just can't believe our luck in finding it! Then the luck that it fits so well...it feels like it's part of me. Normally I can't wait to take off my jewelry as soon as I walk in the door, but I never take this off and sometimes I feel for it to make sure it's on because it just feels like ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also feeling a little bit of guilt over not having a maid or matron of honor and any bridesmaids, but Attila has no one in this country and no one can come over, so no one will be there for him. I want it to be the 2 of us with friends surrounding us, but I don't want to do anything that emphasizes his solitude. I just want us to be surrounded by love and friendship, undifferentiating, because we are one. I am not lost in this relationship, I am more myself than ever...my complete self, happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/R6eGb7v-vXI/AAAAAAAAADU/Y82THHHKQtc/s1600-h/DSCF1987.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/R6eGb7v-vXI/AAAAAAAAADU/Y82THHHKQtc/s320/DSCF1987.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163243312257088882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &amp;hearts;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5189672135993486666?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5189672135993486666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5189672135993486666' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5189672135993486666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5189672135993486666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/comfort-of-big-pots-bubbling.html' title='The comfort of big pots bubbling.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/R6eGb7v-vXI/AAAAAAAAADU/Y82THHHKQtc/s72-c/DSCF1987.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3535612841441175451</id><published>2008-02-03T16:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T18:54:48.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Nostril</title><content type='html'>That's all I'm workin' with over here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've spent the bulk of the day messing around with the appearance of this blog...meanwhile, could I just manage one post? Seemingly not. Life is so different from when I began writing here that I debated whether or not I should even return to it. Attila said that he was glad I felt like writing again, that sometimes we need a break from these things. Anne said I didn't need it while I was away from it, and that is true. I got everything I need and I wasn't lonely or lacking for anything. What a major shift for me. NOTHING is lacking...I mean, I want Attila here with me, but he is more with me than anyone has ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing even remotely interesting to report. I wanted to go to the movies, I was even interested in a double feature, but I've been sick in bed for 2 days and if I didn't get moving today and clean this house, I was going to be reported to one of those psychiatric-help episode of Oprah in which they discuss my filth while the video camera shows the utter disaster amongst which I've been living. It was hard to tell my house from the dump. THAT's over. I even bleached and shined my kitchen sink, and I cannot vacuum enough. The studio looks GREAT with the new space and the new carpeting, and I cannot wait for Attila to move his computers and simulation equipment in there so that we can pick him a desk and this will become his home as well. We were online together and we both looked up the property on Google Maps and I showed him around. It was sort of a bummer to see how much bigger than our house the pool actually is, but hey; I have 2 floors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a big WTF scenario goin' on over here. I have NO desire for work tomorrow. Rats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you. ♥e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3535612841441175451?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3535612841441175451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3535612841441175451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3535612841441175451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3535612841441175451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2008/02/one-nostril.html' title='One Nostril'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-6259404533429609977</id><published>2007-11-28T00:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:31.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You've got to got to got to ..let....love....rule....</title><content type='html'>I'm up late...very late for a Tuesday...and I'm neither sad nor mad, but oddly irritated and I just want to work through it before I put head to pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to analyze something...until I realized there's no point. It's about someone of whom I will never make sense nor believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I am here, where I have landed -- stripped as I am. BUT my heart is intact and SO full of love again. I am overwhelmed by the heart's ability to regenerate itself...it was not the amputated limb I had felt it to be, but the lizard's tail that could grow anew after breaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop smiling&lt;br /&gt;...and laughing...hearty, joyous, abundant laughter.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing but gratitude.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;psst....here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/R0z8MMZ1BuI/AAAAAAAAACw/qzOuiJREX80/s1600-h/very+TIRED.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/R0z8MMZ1BuI/AAAAAAAAACw/qzOuiJREX80/s320/very+TIRED.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137758561341081314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           28 days, Love! 28 days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-6259404533429609977?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/6259404533429609977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=6259404533429609977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6259404533429609977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6259404533429609977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/11/youve-got-to-got-to-got-to-letloverule.html' title='You&apos;ve got to got to got to ..let....love....rule....'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/R0z8MMZ1BuI/AAAAAAAAACw/qzOuiJREX80/s72-c/very+TIRED.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8074380638982834250</id><published>2007-11-10T22:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T22:38:39.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beirut - Elephant Gun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/kjeh6P4sRfw' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/kjeh6P4sRfw'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Joy...over and over. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have moments of reckoning in your life, during which you cry while you make peace with the pain. &lt;br /&gt;I have had such a day.&lt;br /&gt;~e&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8074380638982834250?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8074380638982834250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8074380638982834250' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8074380638982834250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8074380638982834250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/11/beirut-elephant-gun.html' title='Beirut - Elephant Gun'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4036851579280297241</id><published>2007-10-24T21:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T21:57:38.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/15041854@N02/1580964815/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2023/1580964815_2a680e63ae.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/15041854@N02/1580964815/"&gt;...&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/15041854@N02/"&gt;Attila Racz&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	Is he amazing or what?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4036851579280297241?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4036851579280297241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4036851579280297241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4036851579280297241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4036851579280297241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2023/1580964815_2a680e63ae_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-264182474555933408</id><published>2007-10-24T21:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:31.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Him</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/Rx_zZwOp1XI/AAAAAAAAACo/OzWkFf3oCsM/s1600-h/Attila+red+top.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/Rx_zZwOp1XI/AAAAAAAAACo/OzWkFf3oCsM/s320/Attila+red+top.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125082524739556722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Welcome Home Sweetie !! &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;How was your day?  :)&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;This is a picture of me, not the best but I wanted to send a picture  :)&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Did you change your dresses for comfortable?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you just look at how precious? We're talking about a man who is speaking a foreign language to make ME feel good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like this guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-264182474555933408?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/264182474555933408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=264182474555933408' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/264182474555933408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/264182474555933408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/him.html' title='Him'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/Rx_zZwOp1XI/AAAAAAAAACo/OzWkFf3oCsM/s72-c/Attila+red+top.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4731311184834805000</id><published>2007-10-14T21:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T22:33:38.472-04:00</updated><title type='text'>crooked smile, crooked mentality</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1572379168/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 511px; height: 391px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2101/1572379168_19bd13d484.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1572379168/"&gt;crooked smile, crooked mentality&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt; I haven't written in a week.&lt;br /&gt;It has been a strange time, full of ups-and-downs. The week went well, but I took a bunch of colleagues and friends to see Jan, and it broke my heart over and over again. I think we all needed to do it together. We knew we should go, but none of us could have done it alone. It is difficult to keep yourself afloat in a conversation with someone then say goodbye and walk out knowing it'll be the last time you see her. So the FC and I put our arms around each other and walked slowly toward the elevator, letting the tears go where they would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people from the past, from whom I NEVER expected to hear again, have reappeared in my life and their little here-and-there presences are making me smile. I have also been speaking with someone a LOT, and I don't know what to make of him. He is far away, but he seems like someone I know...it is not that he reminds me of someone, just that he feels like a familiar friend and not a relative stranger. My heart is so full these days. There are so many people in there, and still there is one whose departure devastates me over and over. I miss my friend...I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that crazy girl in the photo with the crooked smile keeps trying. She gets up in the morning with an open heart, so full of love. She breaks down from time to time, but she tries. That open heart...it's all over the map...at this moment the Keller says that heart needs to settle down, and that I don't want to take 2 steps forward and 18 steps back. As much as I want him, he does not seem to reciprocate right now. So true. I have had such a difficult time keeping my feelings quiet when it comes to him. It is antithetical to everything we have ever been, but he has left my life and so everything that was, has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no answers. Life is short. No more holding out for the brass ring. Reach for stars and catch the moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Happy Birthday, Jen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4731311184834805000?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4731311184834805000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4731311184834805000' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4731311184834805000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4731311184834805000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/crooked-smile-crooked-mentality.html' title='crooked smile, crooked mentality'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2101/1572379168_19bd13d484_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-1598594285184408424</id><published>2007-10-07T21:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T22:15:18.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly</title><content type='html'>I met some lovely LOVELY  men today, and their genuine ease and kindness have inspired me.  What a difference...what a new world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we'll see what happens with all of them. I am just enjoying their conversation right now, and the absolute lack of guise or guile. THANK you! But they are cute and endearing in their own ways, and in my life now, anything can happen. I was up until 5am this morning turning the corner, making the change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Bella Gnocca, signing off.&lt;br /&gt;xoxo &amp;hearts;e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Yes, G, we are both mourning; but we must smile &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sometime.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-1598594285184408424?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/1598594285184408424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=1598594285184408424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1598594285184408424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1598594285184408424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/ill-spread-my-wings-and-ill-learn-how.html' title='I&apos;ll spread my wings and I&apos;ll learn how to fly'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2955495778939315800</id><published>2007-10-07T04:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T04:03:43.278-04:00</updated><title type='text'>we'll shine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/_H9KwtXf7HA' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/_H9KwtXf7HA'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is very late and I am tired but I do not want to go to bed. This begs the question WHY and I don't know the answer. Something feels amiss. Something somewhere is out of order, and I wish I could find it before I gave up on it for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see so many people are up...I have heard from a few friends here at this late hour, and perhaps it has something to do with the prominence of Mars at the current moment...this will pass; but until then, my whole self---body, mind, and spirit---are running wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I can't...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2955495778939315800?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2955495778939315800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2955495778939315800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2955495778939315800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2955495778939315800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/we-shine.html' title='we&amp;#39;ll shine'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3361107220194056964</id><published>2007-10-06T21:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T21:42:35.381-04:00</updated><title type='text'>He maketh me to lie down in green pastures</title><content type='html'>Can someone please tell me what happened to MANNERS and COMMON SENSE? This oafish woman at the grocery walked RIGHT in front of me with her cart and TOTALLY NEGLECTED to say "Excuse me". She then parked her cart and her wide-load ass RIGHT next to me and stood no more than 10 inches from me to look for her item. I soon realized she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;might &lt;/span&gt;need something RIGHT where I was standing, but REFUSED to move until she said something. FINALLY she said "excuse me" and then I announced "Of course!" but neglected to add the seemingly obligatory "You offensive heifer!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Difficult Present&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) My friend is days from her death and knows it&lt;br /&gt;2) It makes me want to pull near some who want to stay distant&lt;br /&gt;3) Motivation = Zero&lt;br /&gt;4) Loneliness&lt;br /&gt;5) Distraction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Grateful Present&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Life and Health of so many&lt;br /&gt;2) My own life's bounty&lt;br /&gt;3) Absolute zeal for next summer's plan&lt;br /&gt;4) October evenings, despite the wrath of the daylight hours&lt;br /&gt;5) Other Loves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a strange, mysterious year. There are new people everywhere in my life, and I am enjoying wandering down new avenues. All the same, I miss you. I wish you were here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3361107220194056964?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3361107220194056964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3361107220194056964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3361107220194056964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3361107220194056964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/getlost.html' title='He maketh me to lie down in green pastures'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-913242891959882890</id><published>2007-10-04T21:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T21:55:50.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Dose</title><content type='html'>I got two extra-large helpings of sad, difficult news today. I can't even bear to think of both of them because I have spent the last several hours laughing heartily though deep down there was a clear sadness. We cannot spend our lives mired in sadness, and since I have struggled so much in the past few months I am grateful to have finally found some absolute joy again-- and I'm holding on fiercely but strongly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even write clearly enough to make that a cogent paragraph, but we know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no time to waste.&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-913242891959882890?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/913242891959882890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=913242891959882890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/913242891959882890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/913242891959882890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/double-dose.html' title='Double Dose'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8066026812792080841</id><published>2007-10-02T16:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T17:05:18.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>From the French</title><content type='html'>Je tombe pour un homme jouant des jeux avec des coeurs maintenus à la longueur de bras.&lt;br /&gt;Je récupère d'une domination et arrive à son soulèvement haletant de coffre de broyage de coeur de porte&lt;br /&gt;lèvres légèrement dessinées à part&lt;br /&gt;pour le souffle, le baiser&lt;br /&gt;pour éteindre chaque soif que j'ai jamais sue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je fais un pas en avant&lt;br /&gt;et rencontrez le talon d'une paume poussée dans mon sternum,&lt;br /&gt;même l'arrêt&lt;br /&gt;un ajustement parfait au-dessous du breastbone.&lt;br /&gt;Atteinte de inclinaison principale de lèvres&lt;br /&gt;pour la carotte invisible au-dessus de ma tête.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Là voyages de son coeur&lt;br /&gt;par son bras un courant&lt;br /&gt;émanant dans ma moelle,&lt;br /&gt;une énergie aiment l'électricité choquant son coeur ma palpitation de palpitation de coeur&lt;br /&gt;les cellules légères de dix-millièmes par des artères aux veines aux artères aux veines et au dos encore un circuit accomplissent ainsi mes trouvailles de bouche la carotte entre ses lèvres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********&lt;br /&gt;I am falling for a man playing games with hearts&lt;br /&gt;kept at arms length.&lt;br /&gt;I am recovering from a stranglehold&lt;br /&gt;and arrive at his door gasping&lt;br /&gt;heart pounding chest heaving&lt;br /&gt;lips lightly drawn apart&lt;br /&gt;for the breath, the kiss&lt;br /&gt;to quench every thirst I've ever known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I step forward&lt;br /&gt;and meet the heel of a palm&lt;br /&gt;thrust into my sternum,&lt;br /&gt;even the stop&lt;br /&gt;a perfect fit below the breastbone.&lt;br /&gt;Head tilting lips reaching&lt;br /&gt;for the invisible carrot above my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There travels from his heart&lt;br /&gt;through his arm a current&lt;br /&gt;emanating into my marrow,&lt;br /&gt;an energy like electricity shocking&lt;br /&gt;his heart my heart pulsing pulsing&lt;br /&gt;ten thousand light cells through&lt;br /&gt;arteries to veins to arteries to veins&lt;br /&gt;and back again a circuit so complete&lt;br /&gt;my mouth finds the carrot between his lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Goobascript;"&gt;♥e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8066026812792080841?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8066026812792080841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8066026812792080841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8066026812792080841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8066026812792080841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/from-french.html' title='From the French'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-575404209306829639</id><published>2007-10-01T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T21:12:51.830-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You're HOT!</title><content type='html'>You are, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you're amazing, and I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-575404209306829639?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/575404209306829639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=575404209306829639' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/575404209306829639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/575404209306829639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/10/youre-hot.html' title='You&apos;re HOT!'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5434921045747163160</id><published>2007-09-30T22:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:31.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the.last.of.it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/RwgyarQhVkI/AAAAAAAAACg/NEM-e7aWbu4/s1600-h/DSCF1566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 393px; height: 513px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/RwgyarQhVkI/AAAAAAAAACg/NEM-e7aWbu4/s320/DSCF1566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118396410376574530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was up before dawn this morning, and I'm not altogether certain why. I opened the door for the dog and had to grab my camera before setting my toes onto the cold bricks. September is coolly slipping away, slyly turning its head and smirking in its deceit.  We were all tricked, earlier believing fall was upon us only to be taunted by the most brutal of Indian summers. Finally it is taking leave and none too soon; I am done with it. The further I get from July, the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching the sun come up, I went back to bed and woke four hours later with the most wicked of migraines and sinus pain. I could not lift my head enough to sit on the couch so stayed in bed until around 4pm. The entire day was spent in unbearable pain, and I would like to believe there was a reason half my weekend was for naught, but I cannot find one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at the end of the weekend, facing a week without having had a fulfilling weekend, but so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my Lauras wanted me to check out LA Ink to see Kat Von D and as luck would have it, there was a marathon starting just as my headache abated...and now I'm hooked. I was doing SO well on cutting back on my television watching! I don't know what it is about this show (yes, I'm watching it RIGHT now) that just DRAWS me in, but I can't get enough. I should be in bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it...off with me.&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5434921045747163160?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5434921045747163160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5434921045747163160' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5434921045747163160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5434921045747163160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/thelastofit.html' title='the.last.of.it'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/RwgyarQhVkI/AAAAAAAAACg/NEM-e7aWbu4/s72-c/DSCF1566.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-9046922545592979365</id><published>2007-09-28T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T22:30:34.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I ♥ Lollibomb</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="width: 100%;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr class="row_white"&gt;&lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 433px; height: 425px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5112894"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/5/5f4/9d1/iusa_75x75.5112405.jpg" alt="ericasisland" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;from &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/forums_thread.php?thread_id=5250608&amp;amp;page=16"&gt;"Tell me something I don't know"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5112894"&gt;ericasisland&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;Here is something very conservative from me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Washington looked NOTHING like he does in all his portraits. He posed for the most famous one (what we see on dollar bills and everywhere else) immediately following a rigourous tooth-pulling, sans painkillers, and had wads of cotton stuffed into his cheeks to absorb the blood. He was actually a very handsome man with normal unchipmunk-like cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Neither did he chop down a cherry tree.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, in honor of Luca's pursuit of the golden ticket, I will add that one year, as I taught this information to my first grade class; I had a little girl masturbate herself to orgasm.&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td class="dark_grey_text"&gt;Posted at 2:40 pm, September 28 2007 EST&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;             &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_grey"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_white"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 100%;"&gt;              &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;                &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;                 &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5040145"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/9/985/87d/iusa_75x75.5140034.jpg" alt="Boxie" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5040145"&gt;Boxie&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;a first grader??&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td class="dark_grey_text"&gt;Posted at 2:42 pm, September 28 2007 EST&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;             &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_grey"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 100%;"&gt;              &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;                &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;                 &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5123736"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/f/fcf/5a6/iusa_75x75.5151930.jpg" alt="didileo" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5123736"&gt;didileo&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;are you serious?????&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td class="dark_grey_text"&gt;Posted at 2:43 pm, September 28 2007 EST&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;             &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_white"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 100%;"&gt;              &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;                &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;                 &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5011033"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/3/3a3/1fc/iusa_75x75.5105013.jpg" alt="radiantjewels" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5011033"&gt;radiantjewels&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;wow -- at all of this&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td class="dark_grey_text"&gt;Posted at 2:43 pm, September 28 2007 EST&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;             &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_grey"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 100%;"&gt;              &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;                &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;                 &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=42346"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/3/3c7/0d0/iusa_75x75.5154603.jpg" alt="Lollibomb" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=42346"&gt;Lollibomb&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;Holy-effin'-SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ass Goddess in the house, ya'll!!!&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td class="dark_grey_text"&gt;Posted at 2:43 pm, September 28 2007 EST&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;             &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_white"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 100%;"&gt;              &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;                &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;                 &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5123736"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/f/fcf/5a6/iusa_75x75.5151930.jpg" alt="didileo" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5123736"&gt;didileo&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;oh my, erica definitely wins!&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td class="dark_grey_text"&gt;Posted at 2:43 pm, September 28 2007 EST&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;             &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;            &lt;/tr&gt;                       &lt;tr class="row_grey"&gt;             &lt;td style="padding: 15px;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 644px; height: 89px;"&gt;              &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td rowspan="3" style="padding: 0px 15px 0px 0px; width: 75px;"&gt;&lt;table&gt;                &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;                 &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=42346"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.etsy.com/all_images/3/3c7/0d0/iusa_75x75.5154603.jpg" alt="Lollibomb" height="75" width="75" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;                &lt;/tr&gt;                              &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;               &lt;td&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=42346"&gt;Lollibomb&lt;/a&gt; says:&lt;/td&gt;              &lt;/tr&gt;              &lt;tr&gt;               &lt;td style="padding: 15px 0px 20px;"&gt;Erica ALWAYS wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-9046922545592979365?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/9046922545592979365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=9046922545592979365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/9046922545592979365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/9046922545592979365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/tell-me-something-i-dont-know-by.html' title='I &amp;hearts; Lollibomb'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5377976487885198848</id><published>2007-09-28T22:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T22:17:07.415-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Migraine, Day 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;How much time do you spend thinking about whether or not you are what and where you are supposed to be? I usually abide within that Zen state of true acceptance of what is as what should be; but lately I am curious about what it all says to me, and what the meaning of this here-and-now truly is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you for spending some time with me tonight, the 4 of you who whispered into my ears, made me laugh, rubbed my back, and loved me. I love you back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Goobascript;"&gt;xo♥e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5377976487885198848?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5377976487885198848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5377976487885198848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5377976487885198848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5377976487885198848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/how-much-time-do-you-spend-thinking.html' title='Migraine, Day 3'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5903502756676827869</id><published>2007-09-27T01:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T01:42:09.304-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pull me out</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;I've decided not to take the November trip. Something no longer feels right about it, and I'm going with my gut on this one. (Actually, when do I NOT go with my gut?) My gut is also telling me some things have changed but I wonder how much of that is anxiety and my self-defense mechanism preparing me for disappointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;This is just a depressing conversation. Moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;I made a lot of progress on one of the 2 bedroom paintings. That made me REALLY happy on Tuesday night, but Wednesday I was flattened by a migraine and had to lie in a dark dark room in a dark dark wood (cute little book) and do nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;I just want so much in the way of natural human happiness, neither material possessions nor unrealistic expectations, but waking and sending out all this love not merely through my job, but my relationships and my writing and my painting. I want to give to someone and keep myself awake and alive late late in the night with the natural energy and joy that comes from doing what I love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;There is a poem looming over my head but I cannot channel it just yet. I feel once again, I am like Stravinsky's theory -- that I will neither create nor own it, but be the vehicle through which [the poem] flows. I wonder if I will always feel this distance from the words when they are simultaneously the most intimate thing I know, or if I will keep myself outside peering through the window once they are alive. Oh I miss my mountain friends so much right now I can barely take it. I would so love to step back into the valley of Canaan (oh, the obvious correlations) but that was 9 years ago and it hurts to think of all that has transpired between that week and this. A whole lifetime...in fact, several, and I feel them all crashing down on me this moment, the giving and the loss, the cycle from joy to mourning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;I am sitting in the darkness with the windows open at this late hour, the crickets and cicadas carrying on, the dog's claws scraping the gravel as she wanders, a deer snorting at her from the ridge. I have waited all day for this breeze, and it's carrying me back to bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;♥e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5903502756676827869?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5903502756676827869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5903502756676827869' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5903502756676827869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5903502756676827869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/well-ive-decided-not-to-take-november.html' title='Pull me out'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3053571461588947674</id><published>2007-09-25T18:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T18:09:03.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Inquire Within</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51); font-weight: normal;font-size:180%;" &gt;Anyone want to go with me to London in November? I'm serious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3053571461588947674?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3053571461588947674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3053571461588947674' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3053571461588947674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3053571461588947674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/inquire-within.html' title='Inquire Within'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-7208670568701866452</id><published>2007-09-24T18:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T19:01:45.279-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the monday before the tuesday and nothing redeeming so far</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:130%;"  &gt;I am in a particularly disjointed, disconcerted mood today. Not angry or hostile, or depressed, just a little melancholy when I take a break from being goofy. Nothing is going particularly "right" today. I think I'm a bit ticked over some things and I'd like to get over them but I can't, not yet. I just cannot understand a few things that have taken place and nothing can fix those things, I just have to learn to accept them. This is neither a quick nor easy lesson. *Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's add to that the fact that I'm fighting some stuffy throaty thing; my black dress flew open while teaching (button in critical area); I forgot to get a package into the mail and it's almost late; it's crummy Monday before THE Tuesday, and there's a dead mouse stuck in the wall in the CENTER of my house UPSTAIRS...so that it stinks EVERYWHERE, mainly the teeny-tiny windowless bathroom. Yesterday was particularly hideous, and I had hoped we had reached the apex of stink; but I walked into the house this afternoon and straightaway it was foul. I really just don't care for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostly I'm really tired of boys giving me conflicting messages. Didn't you read the post about flirting with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a href="http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/words-of-advice.html"&gt;READ ITHERE, NOW.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Come on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:Goobascript;font-size:130%;"  &gt;meow meow meow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/words-of-advice.html"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-7208670568701866452?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/7208670568701866452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=7208670568701866452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7208670568701866452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7208670568701866452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-am-in-particularly-disjointed.html' title='the monday before the tuesday and nothing redeeming so far'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-379482258443948441</id><published>2007-09-23T09:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T12:22:15.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Marona's</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(252, 111, 103);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    All too often in the hurry and routine of our daily lives we miss the finer aspects of the commonplace. I do it all the time, take for granted what comes and goes so easily for me. I ran some errands in town yesterday, and it was not until very early this morning that I realized how lovely it had been. I parked my car outside the hardware store and walked Sadie to the little family IGA, Marona's, the only grocery store within 10 miles. If Sadie were a dog I could carry in one arm I'd have brought her in. She is so adorable, so friendly and snuggly that I didn't want to leave her outside too long. I looped her around the shady tree in the small yard, and went inside. I was in such a rush to get back to her that I missed all the joys that usually comprise my experience. Everyone who works there (less than ten people total, I'd say) will give you a big hello if you pass them while they work. Matt also works as an EMT and drove the ambulance when I severed the nerves in my hand. All of them will ask you if you need help finding anything if you look perplexed.I love the knowledge they all have. No one will ever look at you blankly, or stand there umming and hmming after a question. They are fast on their feet and know exactly where everything is because they stock the shelves and overhead hooks themselves. One of the eldest gentleman was out for quite awhile last year and by the conversations I overheard plus the absence of the large mole on his nose, I am gathering he had a bad bout with skin cancer. He is a quiet man, a hard worker, and I would guess he has spent most of the hours of his life within that store doing whatever needs to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I pass the butcher counter there will be two or three people behind it and they always make me laugh after they greet me. They will do anything I could wish - debone and skin chickens, portion and wrap separately, take the fat off a piece of beef,or take a leg of lamb and cut it into smaller pieces for a fantastic stew recipe I just couldn't wait any longer to try. More than that, they will do it happily, almost as if they've been waiting all day for me. While they work, I continue my shopping, maneuvering my little cart through the four narrow aisles, invariably scraping the wheels sideways to turn a tight corner. When I'm lucky, I'll find the cat, sometimes curled up on a box of Tide, other times roaming the aisles surely looking for me. I pick her up and carry her for the rest of my shopping. She is a sweet little one, a tiny tabby who fits between my bent elbow and my shoulder, purring and mewing softly as I speak to her. Someone always tells me I must be special because she doesn't go to just anyone, that no one else can carry her around like that while they shop. Most times I'd like to walk out with her and take her right home with me, but then there wouldn't be the joy of finding her on an odd Tuesday after a long, loud day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I get to one of the two registers, I am sure there is something else I want but can't remember. I usually head for the shorter, older of the two women...the one with the glasses and the curly helmet of a head of hair. I'm not altogether certain why, but I think in some way she calms me in an old-fashioned way. No matter who rings me up, it is clear that they've been trained on how to pack a paper bag. This is a lost art, and I long for it every time I shop elsewhere and some unknowing teen has shoved three items haphazardly into a plastic sack before reaching for a new one. I love the way these ladies and gentlemen can use every square inch of a paper bag and nothing is ever crooked, my bread is never crushed, and my eggs arrive in strangely pristine condition even though I might find the carton placed on its short side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day these folks are performing a dying art. The combination of varying knowledges and genuine friendliness within their customer service is neither simple nor mundane. It is beautiful, the way they make people feel welcome and important, the way they know the answers to your questions and work happily to do or get whatever you need, and the way they connect with each person in the way that suits the experience. If you want to be quiet and left alone, you are. If you need help, they know. If you need to connect to another human being with small talk, they are more than obliging. I always walk out satisfied; and if I walk out with too many bags, there is a gentleman who will leave his register or his task to carry them to my car. I will gladly hand over my money for the goods in this store. I am getting more than the items that find their way into my cart -- I am being nourished in so many ways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-379482258443948441?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/379482258443948441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=379482258443948441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/379482258443948441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/379482258443948441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/maronas.html' title='Marona&apos;s'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-7806012453281801989</id><published>2007-09-22T19:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T23:46:21.693-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"...you need a long toe."</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;and other strange statements of the day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"Here's Sadie's cheeseburger."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sadie is a dog.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"I can't let my father see my  "Ass Goddess" and "I ♥ Titty Effing" pins!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"Oh I'll get her Gingerbread, if I don't already have it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on marriage:&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"You just pick the right one to be in the foxhole with, and when you're out of the foxhole you keep your dick in your pants."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div id="804" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(0, 82, 163);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;AlxPeach&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;what is wrong with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="805" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(74, 158, 0);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;a myriad of things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:130%;"  &gt;"Please stand by, we've got a real bark-off going on over here."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div id="586" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(0, 82, 163);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;AlxPeach&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt;:&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;&lt;/span&gt;you definitely deserve him&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="591" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(74, 158, 0);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;EricasIsland:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"&gt;thank you...you know what? I deserve him if he's READY to be a grown man---not if he wants to be stupid; because I don't deserve stupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;"Maybe they ought to set up weekly meetings of the We Fucked Up club." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;--Frankly, I've got someone in mind to spearhead the whole organization.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile, Friends. It's come to this.&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(242, 0, 0);font-family:Goobascript;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&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/9190238459437104924-7806012453281801989?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/7806012453281801989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=7806012453281801989' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7806012453281801989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7806012453281801989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/you-need-long-toe.html' title='&quot;...you need a long toe.&quot;'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2769449728569595852</id><published>2007-09-21T20:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T20:38:50.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that really what you wanted to say to me?</title><content type='html'>I do not find spite a particularly useful endeavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am aggravated because I think something was done spitefully, to illustrate something other than what was implied, and it hurt. I would like to have let things be, but I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, just hear this: No need to bother. Message received. I get it, and so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2769449728569595852?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2769449728569595852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2769449728569595852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2769449728569595852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2769449728569595852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/is-that-really-what-you-wanted-to-say.html' title='Is that really what you wanted to say to me?'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8435557667982869505</id><published>2007-09-19T02:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T16:54:46.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>thank you, Stacey</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;"Wow what a back to school night!!  Your confidence has always been incredible but I've got to tell you this was your best one yet.  Thanks so much for all you do for those kids, and if any parent ever questions you after that presentation they need serious help.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have always had such a great presence but I've got to tell you that tonight there was something about you, a glow, a fire, a something that I can not put into words that was beyond compare.  You are such a gifted teacher, an amazing person, and someone that deserves nothing but the very BEST in all aspects of your life.  Even Bobby said that there was something different about you tonight, besides looking more amazing then ever, he said there was something else he could not put his finger on.  I then told him about the tough summer you had, and the new outlook you were going forward with.  He said that when one door closes another door will open, and usually what awaits us on the other side of the door is usually the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;best&lt;/span&gt; thing for us.  We just don't believe it at the time when that first door is hitting us in the butt.  So anyway what we are trying to say is that we are glad that you are in our life, we have so much respect for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know that I can ever thank her enough for saying that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That Monday night cast a shadow over my entire week. My appetite is off; I am exhausted but can't sleep (look at the time of this post); my mind is wandering and I am lacking the strength to veer it in the right direction. Wednesday's only just BEGUN and if yesterday was any indication of what things are like now, the kids are sensing my change and rolling right over me. Yesterday during recess one little boy got bitten on the bicep by a child from another class. It broke the skin so his mom came to pick him up and I was fine with that (unusual) because he was REALLY enjoying his new roll as boy-with-injury. Shortly afterward, they both show up at my door (JUST as I was kicking my good deep-south Poppleton accent into high gear during Lit time) and lo and behold, he wants to stay. Mom's fighting back tears; I'm trying to comfort her yet return to my story post haste; and he's savoring the moment. I'm telling you that boy walked around with his arm clutched to his chest like the walking wounded. You'd think he were a vet returning from war with a medical discharge the way he proceeded. Finally I told him his arm was going to hurt even MORE if he didn't relax it and let it hang the way it should rather than clutching it to his ribs as if he were wearing a sling. I have another little girl, all of 12 pounds herself, with a heavy plaster cast extending from just below her shoulder all the way over her knuckles, and she manages with less dramatic flair than this little neosporined thespian. I hope he's back to normal today. I need a LITTLE bit of normalcy wherever I can find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly I hope I'M back to normal. I don't think sitting here at 2:50am is going to help, so I'm back to the SC for round 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8435557667982869505?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8435557667982869505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8435557667982869505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8435557667982869505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8435557667982869505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/thank-you-stacey.html' title='thank you, Stacey'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4711445187827040684</id><published>2007-09-16T15:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T15:12:12.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathe Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param value="http://youtube.com/v/zn2m3n_WXpg" name="movie"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/zn2m3n_WXpg" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am in love with this song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the stops and starts, her breathing, the vulnerability and absolute opening that comes from her need. I get that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how this ends...with a surprise; and how sometimes, in fleeting moments, we look alike. If you know me, look for it. I am running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;♥e&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4711445187827040684?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4711445187827040684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4711445187827040684' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4711445187827040684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4711445187827040684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/breathe-me.html' title='Breathe Me'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4118200504281767082</id><published>2007-09-15T19:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T20:50:03.223-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As her wings unfold, she schemes</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1387920713/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1349/1387920713_fd6419b466.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1387920713/"&gt;As her wings unfold, she schemes...&lt;/a&gt; originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt; I woke this morning breathing the chilled September air deep into my lungs, the rain slapping against the roof. I curled the duvet around my shoulders and over my neck, inhaling deeply. There are few things as sweet as a fall morning, my feet soft and warm under the down, my nose tingling. I rolled over and slid back into the warm spot, only my face happy for the cool cotton, and considered the day. It is not often that I want to start a day early; I usually prefer to linger and savor the morning from my island of bed, but today was different. The day was rife with possibilities, and everything seems to have fallen into place. Liz and I met up very early and ran fun errands, our arms aching from heavy surprise packages, and picked up lunch before heading to her house to make cookies. We played with Lucy, I went on to play with Sadie at my parents, sitting on the deck and throwing the frisbee for the little prancer. I saw mom's new artwork, asked for and acquired a perfect new leather-topped oak table for my studio, and headed home. There are cats chasing each other about, rustling among emptied bags and the scent of macintosh apples filling the house. I had some lovely conversation with Peach, with whom I'd like to be at Renegade this weekend...sometimes Chicago is SO close but so far...I'll live vicariously through her adventure there, but I am happy with my own right here. I am snuggled under a warm blanket again, happy for the Parrish-like sunset, and a whole fall Sunday wide open to whimsy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;♥e&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/9190238459437104924-4118200504281767082?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4118200504281767082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4118200504281767082' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4118200504281767082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4118200504281767082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/as-her-wings-unfold.html' title='As her wings unfold, she schemes'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1349/1387920713_fd6419b466_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3557095550116089843</id><published>2007-09-12T22:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T23:23:02.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'>you give me lo-o-o-o-ove and affection now...</title><content type='html'>I walked into my house tonight and not only was it perfectly chilled from wide-open windows, but it held the scent of cedar with a shade of male cologne...so much so that I looked around wondering if one had been here unbeknownst to me. I am so tired, yawning until my eyes tear, but I am so happy about being able to sleep in that it keeps me awake and happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the mistake of scouting out some things online and considered and reconsidered some men with whom I shared critical aspects of my life in the recent past. I peered into their present and started to smirk at the realization that my life has become so distant from theirs in so short a period of time, but then I remembered where I was and why they were critical at the time. I am better for the experience, even though the taste of it has soured slightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw it. I did what I needed to do and have no regrets. It's just amazing how life can change so quickly, sometimes imperceptibly but other times so radically that you almost don't recognize yourself from one month to the next. I recognize myself quite well these days. I remember emerging from the shell, and owe something quite large to those who held the egg that I was while I curiously tapped it from within. Though you are gone for now, I smile to think of you and that time... the two of you rescued me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the afternoon and evening, deep into the night, at the most wonderful birthday party I can remember. I have a kindred heart-- a wonderful soulmate, an incarnation of the most loving, beautiful spirit, and she fits me joyfully. We curl up together like mother and daughter but she walks this world in her seven year old feet acting, talking, gesticulating, thinking, feeling, LOVING like I do. Tonight her mother said "I produced a mini you. She worships the goddess." We get each other, and I am SO grateful to have her in my life. I ♥ you, Bex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a vacation. Someone offer me one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3557095550116089843?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3557095550116089843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3557095550116089843' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3557095550116089843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3557095550116089843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/you-give-me-lo-o-o-o-ove-and-affection.html' title='you give me lo-o-o-o-ove and affection now...'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8322110316862686509</id><published>2007-09-11T20:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T20:13:42.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ray LaMontagne - Trouble</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/KrZkaj37kA0' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/KrZkaj37kA0'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This song is about me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I said so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just accept it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8322110316862686509?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8322110316862686509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8322110316862686509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8322110316862686509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8322110316862686509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/ray-lamontagne-trouble.html' title='Ray LaMontagne - Trouble'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2998707246168287599</id><published>2007-09-10T22:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T22:32:17.107-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Got those Monday blues</title><content type='html'>I got NOTHIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I sold a painting on Saturday, and finished a new one yesterday. The studio is almost completely renovated, and the downstairs is ALMOST finished and looking the way I want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was speaking with Peach as she geared up for a big night out. She needed a little shot of something and the next thing I know she tells me she's having a cosmo...then adds "from a box." I asked how the hell you get a cosmo from a box, but she said it comes pre-made and is pretty tasty and I ought to try it. I'm not the biggest fan of cosmos as it is, so I don't think a box is in my future. If I'm going to have something, it's going into a glass and I'm savoring it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing against my dear Peach and her juicebox cosmo...frankly, the whole thing gave me a sweet giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;e&lt;br /&gt;(Bella Gnocca, to 1)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2998707246168287599?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2998707246168287599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2998707246168287599' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2998707246168287599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2998707246168287599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/got-those-monday-blues.html' title='Got those Monday blues'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3209480818018474153</id><published>2007-09-09T10:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T11:05:28.442-04:00</updated><title type='text'>She is a goddess</title><content type='html'>The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                   ~ Anais Nin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I am very close to the miracle...very close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3209480818018474153?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3209480818018474153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3209480818018474153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3209480818018474153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3209480818018474153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/she-is-goddess.html' title='She is a goddess'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-259099505041858306</id><published>2007-09-08T16:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T16:20:26.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Joyous Surprise</title><content type='html'>I forgot his phone number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to call over an issue with a bill and when I picked up the phone I didn't know what to dial. He was always on speed dial. I sat there staring at the keypad while I thought about it but couldn't come up with the number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I threw my head back and laughed while Ani sang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I feel the party is over if you wanna take a walk.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-259099505041858306?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/259099505041858306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=259099505041858306' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/259099505041858306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/259099505041858306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/joyous-surprise.html' title='A Joyous Surprise'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-904209018658158431</id><published>2007-09-08T11:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T11:33:14.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hokey pianos and flying words</title><content type='html'>I am so damn sick of that eharmony commercial I could punch the television every time it comes on. It's not the premise of eharmony or that other people are happy; it's that damn music they play. I've HAD IT! It's even worse when that Dr. Neil Warren comes on with his white-haired big-face smile and gushes about his 40,000 page questionnaire to match people on personality dimensions. I even reject the term "personality dimensions" because I agree that there are dimensions to personality, but I hate the way those two words have been put together and shoved into our ears over and over again. Then there are those words doming over the screen like a sideways waterfall, all those different "personality dimensions" flying past us, I just want to say HEY, GIMME A BREAK WITH THE NOUNS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had better get their ad agency on a new commercial before I start the hate mail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-904209018658158431?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/904209018658158431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=904209018658158431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/904209018658158431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/904209018658158431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/hokey-pianos-and-flying-words.html' title='hokey pianos and flying words'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-629697621626469225</id><published>2007-09-07T22:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T22:17:46.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the stars kept her up all night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1344540250/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1052/1344540250_b13f984790_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1344540250/"&gt;the stars kept her up all night&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I went to bed early last night because I was tired, so tired. At 3am the treefrogs were determined to get me up with them, and so I was. The world has been so clear lately; the night sky, the air, the path I am on all spreading out like a picnic blanket calling me toward days of bliss. Here on the cusp of Saturday, I am gratified by having earned the weekend ahead, and elated at the possibilities before me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;hearts;e&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-629697621626469225?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/629697621626469225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=629697621626469225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/629697621626469225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/629697621626469225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/stars-kept-her-up-all-night.html' title='the stars kept her up all night'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1052/1344540250_b13f984790_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-6433073338073488427</id><published>2007-09-07T04:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T04:00:01.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>gratitude necklace, rocking chair</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1338310153/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1296/1338310153_1668a95287.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1338310153/"&gt;gratitude necklace, rocking chair&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	I wore my new necklace for the first time today. It kept the concept of gratitude close to my heart. Of course at around 1pm, one of the children asked me what that thing was on my neck. I started feeling around thinking I had a sticker or something bizarre stuck to me, asking, "What thing?" The response: "That white thing." I said "IT'S A NECKLACE!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I'm working with.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-6433073338073488427?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/6433073338073488427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=6433073338073488427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6433073338073488427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6433073338073488427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/gratitude-necklace-rocking-chair.html' title='gratitude necklace, rocking chair'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1296/1338310153_1668a95287_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3291103238425367410</id><published>2007-09-04T19:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T19:37:10.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Etsians Say The Darnedest Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://etsianssay.blogspot.com/"&gt;Etsians Say The Darnedest Things&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; am an Etsian, and this time &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; said the darnedest thing!&lt;br /&gt;Click it and see what I said, and also what Abitabite said about me. She knows me QUITE well now! I ♥ TMI, and I ♥ Abit for quoting me &lt;a href="http://etsianssay.blogspot.com/"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made her blog...I'm the real deal now.&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. She might be right, this might be THE CLEANEST post I've ever made to the forum. I can't help it; I am who I am... and Krystan made me the name-pin to show for it, and NO you CAN'T see it here, you'll have to ask!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3291103238425367410?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3291103238425367410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3291103238425367410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3291103238425367410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3291103238425367410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/etsians-say-darnest-things.html' title='Etsians Say The Darnedest Things'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5262363531701950081</id><published>2007-09-04T00:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:32.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'>in the breeze of the screen door...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/Rtzje1PVphI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RUnKKfwVAG0/s1600-h/Seeking.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/Rtzje1PVphI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RUnKKfwVAG0/s320/Seeking.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106206196358293010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...as summer fades away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It is late, so so late; but I cannot let go of summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The phone rings at midnight; no one can sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We write notes, eat bowls of cereal, twirl locks of hair, and turn our minds away from the week ahead - laughing all the while. Today I stood in the afternoon sun and made a star shadow with my body. I watched bees pull pollen from the innards of hydrangea blossoms. I shed my clothes and dove straight into the pool without first toeing the water. I found maple leaves turning toward Fall and took photographs in the breeze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am not weary of summer, but it slips out my door without so much as a goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5262363531701950081?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5262363531701950081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5262363531701950081' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5262363531701950081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5262363531701950081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/09/in-breeze-of-screen-door.html' title='in the breeze of the screen door...'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/Rtzje1PVphI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RUnKKfwVAG0/s72-c/Seeking.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-389593974211341102</id><published>2007-08-31T22:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T20:23:30.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Word of Advice</title><content type='html'>Don't flirt with me now unless you can follow through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You listening?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wait, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; the flirting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, revision:&lt;br /&gt;Keep flirting with me, but make sure you're amenable to following through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh just follow through already, will you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e (you know what it needs)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-389593974211341102?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/389593974211341102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=389593974211341102' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/389593974211341102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/389593974211341102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/words-of-advice.html' title='A Word of Advice'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4875062790650145497</id><published>2007-08-31T21:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:54:57.152-04:00</updated><title type='text'>31 August 2007</title><content type='html'>This morning I had an early dentist appointment and then went for bloodwork. By the time I was finished, it was lunchtime, and I hadn't eaten anything since 9pm the previous evening. My sister argued with me and I felt discouraged, so I took myself to a new sushi spot and ordered a few improvised rolls. Most of my time in the bright room was spent looking over the glossy teak tabletops out the front window. I shifted to get comfortable in the hardwood chair, my short skirt causing trouble again. I eavesdropped a bit on the conversation at the table in my view, with a painfully frail woman tattooed neatly in many places talking about her job. It was an uncomfortable conversation she was having with another man and woman, all three of them working out a new business relationship. I was pleased to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The table adjacent to me had an older gentleman, somewhere in his sixties I would guess, who was also dining alone. Usually I feel pangs for elderly people eating alone, but I felt his gaze on me and no longer felt obliging toward his solitude. I ate without making eye contact, minded my business and my own thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After he paid his check, he stood, pushed in his chair, and walked to my table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally looked up at him and he said in a volume only for me, "You're a very beautiful woman. I just wanted to tell you that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thanked him profusely, and smiled widely as he walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I tell people I think they're beautiful, lovely, amazing, and adored. The unexpected element of love is that the more I give away, the more I feel within me. What a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥e&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4875062790650145497?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4875062790650145497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4875062790650145497' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4875062790650145497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4875062790650145497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/31-august-2007.html' title='31 August 2007'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3046886252178439031</id><published>2007-08-30T22:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:28:59.789-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span name="intelliTxt" id="intelliTXT"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"We all think we’re going to be great and we feel a little bit robbed when our expectations aren’t met. But sometimes expectations sell us short. Sometimes the expected simply pales in comparison to the unexpected. You've got to wonder why we cling to our expectations, because the expected is just what keeps us steady; standing; still. The expected is just the beginning; the unexpected is what changes our lives."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span name="intelliTxt" id="intelliTXT"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3046886252178439031?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3046886252178439031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3046886252178439031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3046886252178439031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3046886252178439031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/yes.html' title='Yes'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-369530811737645492</id><published>2007-08-30T17:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T18:31:27.435-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreamy</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1277476771/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1196/1277476771_8d6980a575.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might have to acknowledge it...summer's coming to a close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a change from the beginning of the season, when my whole life hanged in the balance. I feel solid and secure, and so happy. It has been such a time of connection when I felt so lost and disconnected at the beginning of July. How quickly things have come together. I have met new people and appreciate them for whatever they are in my life and ask no more of them. One has arrived and departed almost as quickly as he came, but was absolutely precious and beautiful in the moment and I adore him nonetheless. He gave me exactly what I needed at the precise moment I needed it, and taught me so much about myself through being with him. Others have been there for me in ways for which there will never be enough gratitude, for guiding me through the darkest rooms of my grief. Some have been there for me every day, and others were willing to step back into my world after so much time away. One friend forgave me an old mistake and I have missed her. There are new connections, to my lovely Peach, for one, and a perhaps a new and different connection to someone I knew years ago whom I always thought extraordinary. More than anything, I have so much love for all of you. If I consider you a true friend, I hold you so close to my heart you might feel it beat. If we laugh together, if we share ourselves in any way; I love you. You are beautiful and amazing. ♥e&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/9190238459437104924-369530811737645492?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/369530811737645492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=369530811737645492' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/369530811737645492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/369530811737645492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/dreamy.html' title='Dreamy'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1196/1277476771_8d6980a575_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8478649719648110148</id><published>2007-08-28T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T23:31:20.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>TS Eliot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;We shall not cease from exploration&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; And the end of all our exploring&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; Will be to arrive where we started&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; And know the place for the first time.  &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had that summer feeling I'd been missing for months...that peaceful bliss of a day well-spent in heart, mind, and body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart...I am clear on so many things now, and have reached a different state of understanding and acceptance, and finally, gratitude. I still have so much love but now I can spread it out a bit. My friends and family have been on the receiving end, and you, my dear, are still so large in my heart; but I have placed a silk ribbon on this page and have closed the book for now. For now. I gave so much love today in word, in thought, and in deed, and it felt beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind...I restarted a book I had gotten a good bit into but had forgotten ... Anais Nin...and got even further in by being transfixed by both the fictive and meta-fictive aspects. I floated around the sunlit pool in a turquoise suit on a turquoise raft below a cerulean sky, utterly undistracted for hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body...I threw open the doors and windows around 8:30 tonight and ran up for a quick shower before dinner. I stood in the hot stream, lathering the rich red currant soap until the room was filled with spicy steam, dried off, and threw on a loose button-down oxford before heading downstairs. I stood at the kitchen counter adjacent to the back door, slicing soft juicy peaches into a cool porcelain bowl. The crickets and peepers sang ardently, everyone cooing and calling, and the breeze slipped in and over my warm clean skin like a kiss. It was the absolute summer feeling: all of my senses engaged, all of my joy unfolding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8478649719648110148?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8478649719648110148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8478649719648110148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8478649719648110148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8478649719648110148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/ts-eliot.html' title='TS Eliot'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3110081239496345016</id><published>2007-08-28T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T22:57:31.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quickly. Yours Truly, Conflicted.</title><content type='html'>I just want to say good luck on your first days back this week. I'm thinking of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3110081239496345016?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3110081239496345016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3110081239496345016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3110081239496345016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3110081239496345016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/quickly-yours-truly-conflicted.html' title='Quickly. Yours Truly, Conflicted.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8802864972503014459</id><published>2007-08-28T00:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T00:10:30.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'>and the moon was a hole in the sky large enough for a whisper,</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1254518612/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 470px; height: 383px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1269/1254518612_e4507802af.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1254518612/"&gt;and the moon was a hole in the sky large enough for a whisper, but too small for an escape&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;but too small for an escape.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;There are moments you capture on photo, and those for which you put down the camera and stare wide-eyed and grateful. That's why the photo isn't sharp, but my memory is; standing out by the shimmering water, the thyme between the slate leaving speckled shade in the moonlight, the trees massaging the clouds with their bony knuckles, the air so sweet I could taste it with every breath.&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/9190238459437104924-8802864972503014459?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8802864972503014459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8802864972503014459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8802864972503014459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8802864972503014459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/and-moon-was-hole-in-sky-large-enough.html' title='and the moon was a hole in the sky large enough for a whisper,'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1269/1254518612_e4507802af_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8128055127481191871</id><published>2007-08-27T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T10:09:35.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S. I love you!</title><content type='html'>I really do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because I have found the key to happiness in this life; because it is dark and I am the light by which I write; because I have had four days of absolute peace and my world is once more about joy, possibility, and the power that exists naturally as energy between people; because I accept the despair that comes with that joy; because I understand my own capacities -  to live, to love, to create; because this is as much yours as it is mine; because as we move from laughter to tears to laughter, we are always celebrating; because the suffering in my life has led me here, where I am accepted, where I accept, where I am loved, where I love, where I am love, where I am; I thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(1998)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8128055127481191871?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8128055127481191871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8128055127481191871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8128055127481191871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8128055127481191871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/ps-i-love-you.html' title='P.S. I love you!'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8010409470568962608</id><published>2007-08-27T09:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T11:51:06.677-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ideas</title><content type='html'>There are about 15 canvases staring at me over here on the bed so I know that today I'm getting something accomplished. For weeks I've been thinking about a larger piece I want to do but I've been deliberating whether or not I can truly capture the softness of the moment. I took a photo, and my memory is that it I just wanted to take the most delicate parts of my fingertips and gently comb the skin of the person in the photo. I don't know that I can express that with paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is procrastination, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the last Monday in months that I wake feeling the freedom of a wide-open week. I have so many ideas and hopes; please FORCE me to get things accomplished. If we're on the phone, TELL me to get up. If we email, use caps and exclamation points to motivate me! Comment and GET ME GOING! It makes me smile just to think of it. Don't be shy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a summer of reconnection with friends and making new ones. I am grinning like a Cheshire cat realizing that my inclination was to characterize this time so positively when for so long it was the summer of devastation. It feels almost mischievous, so much gained with so much lost. Finally I am feeling that the totality of what I've been and become is finally larger than the pain of what has come to pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and I'll write. I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8010409470568962608?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8010409470568962608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8010409470568962608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8010409470568962608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8010409470568962608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/ideas.html' title='Ideas'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-788365080328230039</id><published>2007-08-25T11:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T13:50:50.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yum</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1217739545/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 458px; height: 358px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1143/1217739545_ad4aa9dfb6.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1217739545/"&gt;TylerBender&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    &lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt; If someone's wondering what to get me for Christmas, here's what I want. HIM. I haven't met him, but we've discussed making some books with my art as the cover. I totally dig this guy. BIG crush.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-788365080328230039?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/788365080328230039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=788365080328230039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/788365080328230039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/788365080328230039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/tylerbender_25.html' title='Yum'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1143/1217739545_ad4aa9dfb6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-6020130302184442791</id><published>2007-08-25T11:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T11:45:32.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ray LaMontagne ~ Crazy ~</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param value="http://youtube.com/v/XjAxABua3RA" name="movie"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/XjAxABua3RA" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My current musical crush. I love this one, but "Empty" haunts me. There are no videos, he isn't a video type of musician, but here he is covering Gnarls' "Crazy" -- which I always liked. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-6020130302184442791?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/6020130302184442791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=6020130302184442791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6020130302184442791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/6020130302184442791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/ray-lamontagne-crazy.html' title='Ray LaMontagne ~ Crazy ~'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3079742613064689689</id><published>2007-08-25T11:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T11:56:34.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough!</title><content type='html'>Oh I'm sick of it! I'm done (for now). Enough with the morose and depressing! Not to mention this place looks like a tornado hit it and I'm GOING to take care of it NOW. I have the art show in 6 hours, I have the 32-incher to install, and I WILL wrap my brain around the commissioned pieces. I also plan on looking HOT at the show tonight, for no one but myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3079742613064689689?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3079742613064689689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3079742613064689689' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3079742613064689689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3079742613064689689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/enough.html' title='Enough!'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-7394280987918327089</id><published>2007-08-23T19:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T21:39:39.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll never know.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"&gt;&lt;p&gt;You tell me,&lt;br /&gt;after 19 years of kindred spirits, soulmates;&lt;br /&gt;5 years together, committed;&lt;br /&gt;how, after I consistently give love and support,&lt;br /&gt;and wait;&lt;br /&gt;you say you're done&lt;br /&gt;and hang up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'll say. Asshat. No matter...I have learned here that despite my instinct, habit, and intuition to do so; I no longer protect you. I take care of MYSELF...ME now. I am not wrong here. You are unnecessarily unkind to me, and I don't deserve it. Never did. You want me out; I'm out. However, you now stand alone in the graveyard and stare at the stones; while behind the trees, the living file past, whispering the truth into my ear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"You knew."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/THeMdZo2GEA" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stockton Gala Days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That summer fields grew high with foxglove stalks and ivy.&lt;br /&gt;Wild apple blossoms everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Emerald green like none I have seen apart from dreams that escape me.&lt;br /&gt;There was no girl as warm as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I've learned to please, to doubt myself in need,&lt;br /&gt;You'll never, you'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer fields grow high.&lt;br /&gt;We made garland crowns in hiding, pulled stems of flowers from my hair.&lt;br /&gt;Blue in the stream like none I have seen apart from dreams that escape me.&lt;br /&gt;There was no girl as bold as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I've learned to please, to doubt myself in need,&lt;br /&gt;You'll never, you'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;You'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Violet serene like none I have set apart from dreams that escape me.&lt;br /&gt;There was no girl as warm as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I've learned to please, to doubt myself in need.&lt;br /&gt;You'll never, you'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;You'll never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That summer fields grow high.&lt;br /&gt;We had wildflower fever.&lt;br /&gt;We had to lay down where they grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I've learned to hide, how I've locked inside, you'd be surprised if shown.&lt;br /&gt;But you'll never, you'll never know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-7394280987918327089?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/7394280987918327089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=7394280987918327089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7394280987918327089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7394280987918327089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/10000-maniacs-on-late-night-with-david.html' title='You&apos;ll never know.'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-4748610869450845846</id><published>2007-08-23T00:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T19:18:00.930-04:00</updated><title type='text'>happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1173583652/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1097/1173583652_85ac95fb09_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericasisland/1173583652/"&gt;happy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ericasisland/"&gt;EricasIsland&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Look at me here.&lt;br /&gt;I was so incredibly happy.&lt;br /&gt;I remember feeling so beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;the world unfurling from my fingertips.&lt;br /&gt;I want that back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-4748610869450845846?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/4748610869450845846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=4748610869450845846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4748610869450845846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/4748610869450845846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/happy_23.html' title='happy'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1097/1173583652_85ac95fb09_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5350684400601732670</id><published>2007-08-22T17:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:32.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fleeting</title><content type='html'>I would like to say that it is getting better, but it's only temporary. From time to time I laugh and mean it, or I'm smiling without intention; but most of the time I am wishing my mind were off the matter and that I didn't miss him so much. I could send a hundred cards to postsecret and I'd still have things to say because it's just a spring that flows endlessly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even now, I don't want to write about it because I don't even want to think about it. I need some distraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/Rsg08NTLnEI/AAAAAAAABcg/KcqtUXjn864/s1600-h/neverbelieveme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/Rsg08NTLnEI/AAAAAAAABcg/KcqtUXjn864/s400/neverbelieveme.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100384786963995714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I remember when I found it. I know what it is, I know how it feels, but I don't know where it is these days. I am lonely and longing for it, but it's hiding from me now. It's a mistake to believe that it's a permanent state of being. Enlightenment is an understanding that comes upon us are we are more awake and alive than we ever thought possible. People can't help but revel in our glow. I've been told that [sic] "it's as if every pore in my body opens up to take in the world and says 'Yes!'" I love that feeling, that moment, that experience...but I am far from that girl right now. I miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Thank you, Carol MacVey; thank you, postsecret. Follow the link, be the light.&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/9190238459437104924-5350684400601732670?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5350684400601732670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5350684400601732670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5350684400601732670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5350684400601732670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/fleeting.html' title='Fleeting'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a7jkcMVp5Vg/Rsg08NTLnEI/AAAAAAAABcg/KcqtUXjn864/s72-c/neverbelieveme.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3313233033426149317</id><published>2007-08-20T21:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T01:13:08.085-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Heather,   I am a pathetic excuse for a human being</title><content type='html'>that's right, I am. And why? Because I want to do things that I know are bad. They all have to do with R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 2:17am here, and I wish you were up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This comes from a night talking about my life and my situation with my friend Amy. She and I haven't caught up since the first days after the breakup. Talking all about it brought it fresh into my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I find out my co-crush now likes another woman. You know, my feelings on this are very strange. I can't figure it all out, but I have to say that what I see of myself in this moment, I don't like. I mean, it makes me really uncomfortable to admit some truths, but maybe I should, just to work through them. This is difficult for me because I know better about what makes a good person, an evolved person...some of this is NOT that at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regarding my co-crush:&lt;br /&gt;1) It's not as if I was deeply invested in this guy. Yes, I really like him as a person, and I'm attracted to him; but I have him in my life as a friend, and why is that not enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) It's not enough because now more than ever I need to feel all the things he made me feel. I enjoyed feeling them, and I want them back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Maybe I could see things somehow working out in a very peculiar way, but 95% of my honest self says that even though this guy IS what I need as a person; he couldn't do or be what I want and need now in my life in terms of a relationship, and why would I even consider something that I don't see working because of logistics? BECAUSE IT FELT GOOD and logic got kicked out the door as soon as something felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I liked all of it because all that feeling good distracted me from the pain. The pain is too traumatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Deep down, I know I am crazy for R, madly in love with him, devastated over things, and scared to death that I'll never really feel and have with anyone the way we felt and what I had with R on the inside. YES, I KNOW THINGS WENT BAD, but it always comes down to something I realized today: R's actions went south...when they were bad, they were really unbelievable; but through it all, I loved him not for what he did, but for who he was. That kills me. Even through this chaos, I feel so much love toward him that I almost can't bear it. I am overwhelmingly sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, sitting here thinking on this for a few minutes, I'm realizing that it's a good thing that my crush has stopped crushing back. I think it probably served its purpose. GREAT when I needed it to be, woke me up to another life, and then just went into normalcy. I need NOT to be a crazy for this guy, no matter how amazing he is, because it wouldn't work. I wish he had NOT given me all the mixed signals, but so be it. I guess we're all entitled to be a little confused, and I'm flattered that he was confused about me. It felt good. I think--or at least I hope--I'm a lot like you described Andy...a very loving person. I sooooo want to love and give love, and I'm happiest when I do. This, where I am now, is WRONG.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3313233033426149317?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3313233033426149317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3313233033426149317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3313233033426149317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3313233033426149317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/dear-heather-i-am-pathetic-excuse-for.html' title='Dear Heather,   I am a pathetic excuse for a human being'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5519878892679843634</id><published>2007-08-19T13:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T13:59:29.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Calling</title><content type='html'>The hawks are crying today, their calls stretching out from the sky over the trees, ominous reminders of what has come to be, and what will come this way. Lately they trace their conical spirals over my head not as if I am the prey, but that something beside me, following me, invisible to my eye but so close to my soul, is being hunted because it is the weak, lesser, dispensable facet of myself. I want to decipher their conversation, to know what it is they see that I do not. I want the keener vision from above, to know what is strong and will withstand, and what is weak and will disappear no matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5519878892679843634?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5519878892679843634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5519878892679843634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5519878892679843634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5519878892679843634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/calling.html' title='Calling'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3629190876693775019</id><published>2007-08-18T17:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T22:36:18.342-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ripped from the Nest</title><content type='html'>Yes, we are the same person, he and I and you and I and all of us together making complete sense to each other but rolling around bumping into other people and smiling. I was all alone by the water this afternoon, the sun so warm on my naked back, when I saw a bird working to balance on the delicate rim of a scrolled-iron chair. The breeze was stronger than we both expected, and he teetered back and forth until he had to pull his tail into the effort, all of him tipping to and fro to reach that feeling, that unworded all-knowing experience. How like that bird I am this summer; as much myself as ever, but windblown and teetering to find my balance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3629190876693775019?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3629190876693775019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3629190876693775019' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3629190876693775019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3629190876693775019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/ripped-from-nest.html' title='Ripped from the Nest'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-3186483490844434989</id><published>2007-08-18T16:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T01:50:29.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snippets from my past on the mountain ~ a far different time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;M: You know, I've been thinking about these men I've been dating and I've tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. I've tried to give chances and get to know people and not be judgmental about who they are based on the superficial; but I've realized something. Just because they're ugly doesn't mean they're deep.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That's one of my crushes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Since when?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Since like ten seconds ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can't take it! We are constantly on the brink of make-out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You know, I meet them at dinner and ten minutes later we're talking about me and all my sodomy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuzz: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Talk about emasculation!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;E:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; YOU LOVE IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hag: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh yeah, I spend $200 on a costume and you take down your curtains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waybury Hag: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Would you two move &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AWAY&lt;/span&gt; from the door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How's your crush list these days?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-3186483490844434989?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/3186483490844434989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=3186483490844434989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3186483490844434989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/3186483490844434989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/if-it-makes-no-sense-its-probably-not.html' title='Snippets from my past on the mountain ~ a far different time'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-609652447447178574</id><published>2007-08-14T16:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T20:43:18.378-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Manifesto</title><content type='html'>All of my life I have been motivated and propelled by love. It is not only a love and zeal for life, but the intense commitment I want to experience with a partner who is fully committed not just to me, but to passion, the soul, the joy, and love itself. It has been the most difficult thing to find and learn. There are so many people who get caught up in the lust and the possibility and the wide-open unknown that they feel they can master when they start a relationship, only to have them freak out later on when love requires work or they feel overwhelmed by the intensity of their love for me, or more often, my love for them. My entire life is about love...I bring it to my teaching,  my writing, my art, my sex, and every relationship I have with friends and family. Yes I have been hurt by promises of love that couldn't do the work in the end, but I am EVER strengthened in my knowledge that I am committed to making love work. I have consistently done whatever it takes because there is nothing more important to me. I feel we have so much to talk about because it has taken me my entire life to find someone, anyone, who is willing to go the full distance in listening to love and the beloved and making their lives about what they both need because the love is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING. It is not one person over the other, it is the two as equals who give and take. I want to be sure we are clear...I am not weak nor am I a doormat when it comes to other people, but when it comes to the beloved and love, I am such a listener, such a worker, such a person who tries and flourishes when my efforts for the beloved are realized. I am not subservient or second class to another human being, I am subservient to love because I am its vehicle. If you needed something from that love, I would give it, and I would expect likewise from you. We do not want to control each other, we want to be directed by love and inherently have the nature to give without expecting anything...we are the tools of a larger purpose and a higher calling -- to love. My friends have very often told me over and over that no one works harder, is more patient, is more accepting or understanding for love than I. They marvel at the extent to which I give, understand, wait, allow room, and be present in what my partner needs because they say they couldn't do it. I tell them I see no other way. It is in me, it is who I am. There is never too much work when it comes to a true love relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much to talk about. My head is swirling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I should talk more about myself or my philosophies on love. I want to experience the extent to which you embody love. I want all the things you talk about, think about, feel, and dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we should address sex.&lt;br /&gt;Some years ago, I turned a corner and went from enjoying love and sex to &lt;i&gt;embodying&lt;/i&gt; love and sex. Men and women tell me I am of the most sexy women they've ever met, and not just from how I dress, but how and what I am. I am confident. I am proud of myself. I have humility and am not of the top 5% in relation to the world's opinion, but I believe that what I have within me makes me beautiful, and I enjoy living it every day. I am not at all bad to look at, but sexiness and beauty must emanate for a person to truly be beautiful. I feel beautiful. I love sex. I need to say that again. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I LOVE SEX&lt;/span&gt;. I am completely sexually uninhibited. I have not had a dozen partners, not even half that, but I HAVE had a lot of sex and I have crossed boundaries when it comes to social mores and expectations. I love to be in constant physical connection with my partner. I love to express myself physically, both in my appearance and with my hands, my lips, my whole body. When we are having dinner (in or out), I do not want to sit across from you, I want to sit next to you and caress your inner thigh while we speak. While driving, I want to trace the line of your ear and lightly feel your neck under my fingertips. When we walk down the street, I may be overwhelmed by the desire to have you, and I will push you up against a wall and kiss you until we are ready to disappear together. When we lie on the beach I want to draw circles on your stomach with my hands. I want to curl up into spoons and press my warm lips into your neck until you turn and press your whole body against mine. There is nothing more powerful than the sex of true connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need you to understand the vulnerability I am expressing in giving you these words on the faith that you tell me no lies and that you are the love you purport to be. My instinct tells me to believe you are everything you say, to give you these words without fear of any kind. Please be everything you say you are. Please be who you truly are because not only are you beautiful on first glance, looking deeper into your eyes I see the longing, the absolute willingness to ravish and open your every pore to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to give and take in equal shares. I would NEVER want to take more than I give. I have always given more than I have taken, and it has taught me that I must remember that my needs are valuable, too. I do not need financially or materialistically (not that I do not appreciate tangible beauty...I LOVE to experience the beauty of creation) but my true needs are all of the spirit, heart, and soul. I need compassion, kindness, understanding, generosity of spirit, love of life, respect for others...in my own or a witnessed relationship, NOTHING repulses me more than a partner who badmouths, makes faces, or generally disrespects his or her partner in their absence. I NEVER do that and I need to know that there is nothing higher than the partnership I have with that person. I believe that love is sacred. SACRED. While I wholly understand confusion and frustration and the need to discuss a relational issue with friends, I cannot bear sacrilege to that bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends have told me it is always better to be with someone who loves you more than you love them. I cannot bear this concept. I cannot bear it for you and I cannot bear it for me. Please surrender that with your old demons. I refuse to be with someone who feels they love me more than I love them. My partner must know that my love for them is everything to me. EVERYTHING. When it comes to partnership, we are each responsible for 100% of our 50%. I am 100% accountable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to say something about chemistry...&lt;br /&gt;I believe there is initial chemistry of the body and it can be so powerful that it overwhelm and perhaps is not so telling because it could fade. But wait; there is chemistry of the soul. Right now I feel a very intense chemistry toward you in your honesty, forwardness, eagerness for true love's effort and commitment. I am a person who puts EVERYTHING on the table. I have no boundaries when it comes to the self. Listening to someone else speak in that manner, someone who is on the path and seeking common truths...that chemistry is intoxicating. Truth is intoxicating the way nakedness is arousing. Can you find any corners within yourself that are awakened and made curious by what we share? I want you to be open to being overwhelmed by a deeper chemistry -- to find yourself entranced and mystified by your draw toward me. If you never feel that for me, I am not the woman for you. I want us to make each other shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall I go on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-609652447447178574?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/609652447447178574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=609652447447178574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/609652447447178574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/609652447447178574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/manifesto.html' title='Manifesto'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-5007666703665990568</id><published>2007-08-12T21:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T22:00:19.524-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It isn't</title><content type='html'>It has been too long since I've written, and I think I have put the joy into my life rather than my writing. At least I hope that is what I have done. My heart is all over the map, and the further I spread my wings the more I feel the wind lift me higher, but soon I look down and am consumed with thoughts of what could be. All I am needs to look up at the present moment, constantly, and it is often blissful. It is work, and the right time to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are surprises beyond this hurt, and somehow they touch the pain and stroke me in the moment, caring for me and comforting me. Eventually I will be able to stay on the path, not falling down alone, but walking tall despite the knowledge that this struggle has been of the most painful I know. If I can say this is the worst it can get; it isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-5007666703665990568?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/5007666703665990568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=5007666703665990568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5007666703665990568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/5007666703665990568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/it-isnt.html' title='It isn&apos;t'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-7310036210595448066</id><published>2007-08-06T05:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T05:38:36.622-04:00</updated><title type='text'>14 months ago today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="role_document" style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Again I am tired after a day of putting my energy into the world and hoping to find joy in it. It comes to me, I make it, I am happy, but these days are tinged with letting go, and it can overwhelm me if I am not careful. You see, with saying good-bye to you and living in your absence, and saying good-bye to a class I have loved -- my everyday family with whom I have grown -- I am so reminded that life is transient, and the emotion of loss is too close to my heart right now with my mom's unknown future looming like a disembodied shadow. There is a lot of joy in this job, I laugh from my soul, and with that joy I must accept the balance, the pain. But each day that I rejoice in the approach of summer, I also look at them and know our time together is ending; we will never be the same again. I must love change, it is in me and I embrace the growth, but there are some things you just want to hold onto until it doesn't hurt anymore to let go. I miss you. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend a lot of time looking at everything around the house, all the big and little everythings around me, and I see the million invisible paths I have taken to put anything and everything in a place (or out of it). I see the ghost of myself in 10,000 places harmlessly placing anything where it is, sometimes intentionally, sometimes without thought, just to put it somewhere, and I am constantly reminded of a song lyric that breaks my heart...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I go from day to  day ~ I know where the cupboards are ~ I know where the car is parked  ~ I know he isn't you.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For a long time, there was a he that wasn't you and I lived that desperate lyric like a clenched fist hidden behind a back. But now, there is no other man, but there is everything else in my life that obliquely reminds me that what I'm doing is, for now, to get to you. I revel in the pleasures of each day, but I long for you. I truly enjoy each day of my life, yet the fullness of my life is with you by my side and me by your side and I miss that recognition that yes, there is someone nearby that truly sees all of me, and adores me for all of it. It is almost as if your skin is my skin, your scent my own, your lips so soft and full they match mine as if they are pulled together by the invisible cords attached to our one, full soul. We are both the softer and hardest places of each other. We are a light in the dark and the shade in unbearable brightness. We honor each other by honoring ourselves, and we have always felt it. We do it because to do it is to live, and finally, we know how.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-7310036210595448066?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/7310036210595448066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=7310036210595448066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7310036210595448066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/7310036210595448066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/14-months-ago-today.html' title='14 months ago today'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8872347822366907115</id><published>2007-08-03T22:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T05:25:19.294-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thick as thieves</title><content type='html'>All of it was hollow, all your professions and promises, all of it momentary and I was solid; I was real; I was everything right there, always for you. When it came down to the darkest deepest moments, you ran away. I don't know that I can ever forgive you for that. You have broken my heart again and I am smashed in a thousand ashy pieces, my heart, my soul, my whole life on the floor, tread upon. Of all the things I thought I could count on, it was your word, that whatever you said you meant, and you would stand by them come what may. I was standing by you through ALL of this, through the crises, the struggles, the emotional trenching and desperation, I was steadfast. Not perfect, steadfast. Not for one second did I consider or suggest walking away from you. Everything I am and was for you was abused and abandoned, and I'll not soon forget the way you took this beautiful phoenix and held her down, twisted her until her heart and soul were cracked and broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I've come tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I've come to know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The way we are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; the way we'll go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and to measure this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the width of a wide abyss&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I come to you in restless sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; where all your dreams turn bittersweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; with voodoo doll philosophies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; day glo holy trinities &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; the crooked raft that leaves the shore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; ferries drunken souls aboard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; pilgrims march to Compostela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; visions of their saint in yellow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; follow deep in trance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; lost in a catatonic dance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; know no future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; damn the past&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; blind, warm, ecstatic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; safe at last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8872347822366907115?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8872347822366907115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8872347822366907115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8872347822366907115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8872347822366907115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/thick-as-thieves.html' title='Thick as thieves'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8131552953521151564</id><published>2007-08-02T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T01:49:21.037-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ulysses</title><content type='html'>Thank you, Tennyson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel less alone and uncommon in this world, and so with gratitude I send my spirit up to you in the heavens tonight while my earthly body roils and toils endlessly. Time is nothing to me in this space, time has left me. I am suspended within the emotion and it is pain now, pain always, pain to be. I do not accept it like a martyr's cross; I weep with every step. This is not something I have chosen, nor has it possessed me like a demon spirit; it simply &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is. &lt;/span&gt;Everything that was beautiful about me still exists in the deep. I will always strive to bring it to light, but the weight of this experience is a shroud; it is heavy and suffocating, and I move slowly and deliberately. My whole life is running away from me and I am out of breath and can't catch it. I start wandering off the path in any direction that doesn't remind me of what hurts. I have lived with this for almost a month and it feels like the beginning of eternity. I can't go on like that. It will not get better. It is what is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am a fatalist in this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for a moment's peace...around me now&lt;br /&gt;~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you're cold, I'll keep you warm.&lt;br /&gt;If you're low, just hold on,&lt;br /&gt;cos I will be your safety&lt;br /&gt;oh don't leave home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and within me,&lt;br /&gt;Tennyson's last stanza&lt;br /&gt;~*~&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Some work of noble note, may yet be done,&lt;br /&gt;Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.&lt;br /&gt;The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:&lt;br /&gt;The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep&lt;br /&gt;Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,&lt;br /&gt;'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.&lt;br /&gt;Push off, and sitting well in order smite&lt;br /&gt;The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds&lt;br /&gt;To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths&lt;br /&gt;Of all the western stars, until I die.&lt;br /&gt;It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:&lt;br /&gt;It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,&lt;br /&gt;And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.&lt;br /&gt;Though much is taken, much abides; and though&lt;br /&gt;We are not now that strength which in old days&lt;br /&gt;Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;&lt;br /&gt;One equal temper of heroic hearts,&lt;br /&gt;Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will&lt;br /&gt;To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;~*~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So with this I try to emerge and seek a newer world. I will never leave this behind. It will always be me, but I can seek a guide, and a vision of the beauty that the world can be when I let myself see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and oh, not to yield. Oh, thank you, with everything that I am, that I know, that I feel; thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8131552953521151564?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8131552953521151564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8131552953521151564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8131552953521151564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8131552953521151564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/08/ulysses.html' title='Ulysses'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-2021586266730417731</id><published>2007-07-31T23:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T23:55:24.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>William Henry Channing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common--this is my symphony.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204);"&gt;Thank you, Mags.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-2021586266730417731?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/2021586266730417731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=2021586266730417731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2021586266730417731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/2021586266730417731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/07/william-henry-channing.html' title='William Henry Channing'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8669761455302846656</id><published>2007-07-31T18:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T01:50:44.675-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Down With The Ship</title><content type='html'>I haven't written because it has been nothing but pain all the way 'round. I try to take my moments and turn them just a degree toward happiness, but I am nowhere near it. I have woken up in the middle of the night full of poetry for it, but I force myself back to sleep instead. I want to sleep my way through this pain even though I know I have to feel every moment of it in order to move forward in my life. There is a drive to write that feels as if it's driving &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;, that my hands are the vehicle and it's not my decision what comes out. I am in love, and always will be. What I want most in this world eludes me. I don't know how this came to be, that I am a person for whom life spreads out beautifully, with such grace and gratitude it has come to me; and yet fruition of the deepest, heaviest desire I have rows away with the lifeboat, one hand reaching toward it, the other caught in the riptide, accepting the pull.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8669761455302846656?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8669761455302846656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8669761455302846656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8669761455302846656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8669761455302846656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/07/going-down-with-ship.html' title='Going Down With The Ship'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-1842847159320713500</id><published>2007-07-18T18:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T19:03:05.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone Quiet</title><content type='html'>In the earliest morning I heard rain slapping on the air conditioner and soon hitting in rolling sheets on the roof. I did not want to know the time, so went back to sleep until I woke for the day around 9. I had a feeling it was going to be a calm day, one of reflection, contemplation, and awareness. Early plans were postponed due to weather, and I began to clear my mind of the litter that has been gathering lately. I feel like a puppy unleashed and running free in the field, my mouth stretched wide into a smile as I jump and dart about, the whole world an expanse of possibility and exploration before me.  I don't know what is going to happen, but I feel okay about all of it. I know there will be heartbreak in my future, but I am going to understand it as the experience of the journey, and hope to look up to find myself nearing the crest of a hill, beyond which a new vista unfurls before me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-1842847159320713500?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/1842847159320713500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=1842847159320713500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1842847159320713500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/1842847159320713500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/07/gone-quiet.html' title='Gone Quiet'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8382618797392285290</id><published>2007-07-17T23:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T00:04:40.639-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it ever too late?</title><content type='html'>I began the day meditating for an hour, and the rest fell out before me so wonderfully, like a red carpet unfurling down a wide, paved lane.  I know part of this is the reconnection with R, the small indentation I have made on the circle that he is, a circle that was a wall to me only days ago. I am not fooling myself nor pretending; I am simply hopeful and focused. The past is gone. I have the present moment, and the future will reveal itself to me bit by bit. In the present, I am at peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday, Peach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9190238459437104924-8382618797392285290?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8382618797392285290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8382618797392285290' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8382618797392285290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8382618797392285290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/07/is-it-ever-too-late.html' title='Is it ever too late?'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9190238459437104924.post-8625084695127879497</id><published>2007-07-14T20:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:10:33.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying</title><content type='html'>I forced myself to make plans for today. I chose the brunch party and jewelry shopping, hoping to distract myself and hide from my own sadness. I drove with half my mind on the radio, the constant scan to find a tolerable song, so that as I drove up the long drive and parked; I thought I had prepared myself well enough for the faces and questions of my unknowing friends. As I backed into the shady spot, I saw a car pull in next to me -- a friend I didn't expect to see. It was the one I had not seen in two weeks, the one who had become engaged in the interim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one with a newly broken heart face one in the throes of love's abundance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She recoils, curling herself into a tight ball around her soul, and faces her friend, pretending. I congratulated her and was grateful that she changed the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fine; I was laughing and eating for the first time in days when the wedding came up in conversation. The muscles on the sides of my neck pulled hard from my collarbone and face. I felt the heat rise into my chest, and my eyes dropped to my plate. I was rude, I know, but it was either turn to another friend and begin a new subject, or begin to cry right there at the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always offering congratulations to a friend when I am in the midst of heartbreak. I would give everything I have to change this moment in time; to dance out the door in airy steps, looking back on the sadness of my life with a bright smile for the departure, blonde hair flying, arms floating windward to embrace love's joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/RplnUnJ58mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_kKLd6TB-_A/s1600-h/Follow+Your+Bliss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/RplnUnJ58mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_kKLd6TB-_A/s320/Follow+Your+Bliss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087210857897259618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                                                                                                     "Follow your Bliss" by Irene Suchocki available at http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=6365982&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/9190238459437104924-8625084695127879497?l=loveandrapture.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/feeds/8625084695127879497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9190238459437104924&amp;postID=8625084695127879497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8625084695127879497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9190238459437104924/posts/default/8625084695127879497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://loveandrapture.blogspot.com/2007/07/trying.html' title='Trying'/><author><name>e</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12457799540537323600</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/SPqUNFZZZdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qcBAQS6kMWg/S220/atti%27s+fave.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qBOjYqOEgHE/RplnUnJ58mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_kKLd6TB-_A/s72-c/Follow+Your+Bliss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
