<?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-880126159226214493</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:13:25.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The end...at least temporarily</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-1323889940325198775</id><published>2009-08-12T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T20:43:49.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing the happy post to stretch my mind</title><content type='html'>I went to the doctor today and found out my tibia is healed!  Yeah!  No more crutches...still a bit of hobbling though.  My tendons and ligaments aren't completely healed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a really good time on my vacation.  Washington was a blast, and I can't thank God enough for Adam and helping me.  We had so much fun with our picnic, the winery, mexican food, and Thai food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a bad note...Molly died this last week.  I am going to miss her.  Belle had died about a month before her, and I think it took a large toll on her body and she realized just how old she was once Belle was gone.  She stayed alive for her daughter though.  I read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Art of Racing in the Rain&lt;/span&gt; and bawled my eyes out at the end.  It just makes me realize how much Gin helped me through the hardest time of my life, and she doesn't even know it.  We both found each other and needed each other.  But this is supposed to be a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;happy&lt;/span&gt; post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am only applying to 3 schools now-&gt; University of Missouri, Colorado State University, and Washington State University.  It is very exciting knowing that I will be moving in less than a year.  Caitlin, Ryann and I are going to move into a place in Fort Collins, CO regardless of where I get into vet school.  This is my gift for graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been thunderstorming here lately, and I love it.  Adam has a surprise for me when he comes home on Sunday, so I am anxious for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weirdest thing happened today.  I had an odd texting conversation and I didn't know quite how to take it.  It was almost as if someone else was texting on the other end.  Crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to take this time to give a prayer of thanks for where I am in my life right now.  Although it seems tough, it is a long way from where I was a year ago.  Dad, I pray for a fast recovery.  And also watch over Dusty's family.  It is such a tragedy that they put all that money into chemo and treatment for him to pass away.  Watch over Gracie and send an angel to be with her.  Protect Kels in her fragile state.  Watch over my father as he struggles with the loss of the dogs.  instill in Grant and Morgan's hearts your grace and love, and help me show them the way in their faith eventhough I'm not Catholic anymore.  Thank you for the acceptance of my family in that area too...I know it has been a struggle to say the least.  I also want to throw an extra prayer out for all the decision-makers in our nation.  They need all the help they can get in deciding how to fix our current economy.  But over all Dad...thanks for your grace and all the friends, family, foes, and people I will meet in my life who have created who I am now and will be.  With them, I praise you and can't wait for the day that our Family will be reunited.  I miss all of You-Mary, Jesus, and God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-1323889940325198775?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/1323889940325198775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=1323889940325198775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/1323889940325198775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/1323889940325198775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2009/08/writing-happy-post-to-stretch-my-mind.html' title='Writing the happy post to stretch my mind'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-5991061043910929829</id><published>2009-07-27T14:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T14:21:17.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This should be better than dessert</title><content type='html'>Are you happy?  I think I pretend to be happy.  I should be happy...  I have good friends, a decent family, a great job.  But somethings missing.  Mom and Dad were in town yesterday.  Since I'm on crutches, Mom went to the store with me to get ink for the printer.  As we are walking out, she says, "You really like that necklace?  You wear it a lot."  To which I responded, "Ya, I do."  I really wanted to say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wear this necklace for comfort.  Because it reminds me of a time I was really happy.  It gives me confidence when I am doing something I am nervous to do...like date.  It's my escape plan.  When I feel awkward or tense, I reach to it and remember a time when I loved a man and he loved me back and it didn't take any effort.  A time when my heart never ached at night from waking up after having a dream about that man because I could roll over or just open my eyes and he was there.  It reminds me of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do now.  My heart was created by God and He lives inside it, and my heart is telling me that he will come back.  Do I listen to it though?  My mind tells me not to.  Will things work with me and Adam?  I think there are doubts within me on the whole religion subject, but I haven't been attracted to another man like this since Sean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need help God.  One more week and I am in Washington!  Let me know out there if you can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-5991061043910929829?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/5991061043910929829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=5991061043910929829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5991061043910929829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5991061043910929829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2009/07/this-should-be-better-than-dessert.html' title='This should be better than dessert'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-7726763332161423540</id><published>2009-07-13T21:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T21:07:48.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rd</title><content type='html'>Do you think happiness is in a bottle somewhere?&lt;br /&gt;And our dreams give us clues of where to find it, the only problem was in the beginning cuz in the beginning we were innocent and knew nothing of this bottle.  We lived without the search, and then someone mentioned it, a faint whisper like the first mention of the word sex to a hormone-driven teen, we were hooked.  We wanted this container of ecstasy, keeper of euphoria. 'But where is it?' we begged, scraping our knees on the pavement from so much groveling.  'Keep searching, keep searching' they said.  So we crouch in twisted positions, looking under, over, around, and through until at last we find it!  The bottle of happiness that has had our hearts melting.  Slowly opening the cap not to let any of it escape without consumption, our hearts race and palms sweat.  A life's journey spent to be elated is in this hourglass sculpture of glass.  The contents inside begins to escape.  Faster. Vapors.  Breathing fast to take it in.  A small fizzle and it's gone...what now...  Does this happen to everyone, or is it just yours?  Could you have done anything differently?  Maybe the memories that you had before you knew of the bottle were escaping to fill your bottle, and your search time just wasn't long enough to fill it.  Did you open the bottle wrong?  You don't know, but all you know is that your bottle is empty...you can only hear of other people's happiness bottles, and each tale reminds you of the fizzle.  It was everything they had dreamed of.  Can you create a new bottle with more dreams?  Keep Dreaming...one day you'll find it.  That's what they say, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-7726763332161423540?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/7726763332161423540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=7726763332161423540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7726763332161423540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7726763332161423540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2009/07/rd.html' title='rd'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-5164703113330088440</id><published>2009-07-06T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T22:12:44.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Poet's dead society</title><content type='html'>These feelings blur the peace of mind that fits in the puzzle of my heart sits on the tip of my knows it all just blends and makes me have anxiety attacks these feelings.  Ewes seem I trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passion&lt;br /&gt;of Christ&lt;br /&gt;The ache inside&lt;br /&gt;kneeling in the rain&lt;br /&gt;Christianity isn't what we thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-5164703113330088440?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/5164703113330088440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=5164703113330088440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5164703113330088440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5164703113330088440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2009/07/poets-dead-society.html' title='The Poet&apos;s dead society'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-7514012561883008196</id><published>2009-05-27T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T09:05:51.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A rant....once again</title><content type='html'>There are many things I am not sure of in life, which is weird for me because I usually know what I am doing at all times.  In a way it is liberating though.  Right now I am in between deciding to go to vet school or the Peace Corps.  I have my application almost finished for the Peace Corps, so i think I am going to go that route.  It's not going to hurt anything if I wait on vet school.  It's only two years right?  but so much happens in two years.  I mean, look at me two years ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think there is a very good reason your heart doesn't follow your brain.  Not physiologically, but morally and spiritually.  There is a reason I feel the way I do and can't get rid of this feeling.  I know what I want it to mean, but I am sure that God does not have the same plan...we're never really on the same page with things.  He always knows what's better though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sequential events blow my mind.  I love how if one thing in my life changes, it effects everything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started wearing the  necklace again.  It's just comforting knowing that it is close to my heart where it belongs.  I pray everyday for you.  The other night, this really strong feeling came over me.  It was so strong I cried in my car.  I literally almost had to pull off to the side of the road.  I can still feel you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things with me and the potential lasted for about 5 months and then ended.  No really hurt feelings though.  It was very mutual.  Kinda crazy.  This was the first relationship I have been in where I wasn't the one who was completely interested, so when the breakup happened, I was...content.  We are much better friends than boyfriend/girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought Iron and Wine cds the other day.  Heaven.  Listened to Jay-Z at the 37th St. house while I bouldered.  Peace.  Ate Guadalajara in Cheyenne when I drove through.  I couldn't stop thinking about my birthday there and wearing the big old sombrero!  I don't know where the picture went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get my computer back today.  It had a virus on it, and the weird part was that I wasn't even afraid of losing my computer as much as I was worried about losing pictures and letters...of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart hurts now, so i am going to go run&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-7514012561883008196?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/7514012561883008196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=7514012561883008196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7514012561883008196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7514012561883008196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2009/05/rantonce-again.html' title='A rant....once again'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-5970476777048649469</id><published>2008-12-15T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T18:28:46.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I choose Life</title><content type='html'>I'm stalling. The studying sits in front of me and I don't want to do it. I just want to go in the testing room and see how much I really remember...not worth it though. I've decided that I am getting out of here. Peace Corps to be exact. I need to run away, not that it is going to solve anything, but I need to do it to save my life. My fear is getting out of the Peace Corps and not wanting to go to vet school anymore. Then what am I going to do? So I had a really good time making puppy chow the other night with a good friend. He made it quite the entertaining time. He's become a 'potential'. This is scary as hell for me because I didn't think this would happen again. What do I do though...I could be out of this country in a year and a half. He could be too though. UGhf...save me please. I am tired, I need a massage. On a happier note: I am almost done with a journal. I read it through the other night and realized how much shit i've been through in one year's time. Garrett and I went to Bagels and Joe after Church yesterday. We talked about how we are all in this together to help each other. He said something that really hit me. He said "i've realized that people come in and out of your life for a purpose, and once they're out of your life, you can't try to hold on to them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January 2nd-  I've realized that this needs to be my motto.  Not necessarily keeping people at a distance, but...I don't know.  I just need to let go. &lt;br /&gt;So the 'potential' became a...well I don't quite know.  We are trying though.  New Year's was a blast.  It was definitely the funnest party I have been to in a long time.  Had a midnight kiss, and partied with Kelso after a long time coming.  Life is pretty good right now.  I leave for Vegas in 2 days! and turn 21!  Eventhough my life is good, there is still my stupid heart.  It's telling me things and I don't know what to do.  Adam says you should trust your gut always.  I don't know what my heart is telling me.  I think it's saying that I should run back to Sean though...  That wouldn't work though.  He's with Jennica and do you know what a fiasco that would be?  If we were even to try to get back together there would be jealousy, fights, mistrust...it just wouldn't be us anymore.  It takes two to make a relationship work.  That said, I am scared as fuck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, it's ok.  Adam's scared too.  We work together to make things work.  There is freedom, which is nice.  There are so many things about this relationship that make me nervous though.  1. Religion.  He just started to believe in God this last year.&lt;br /&gt;2. Futures.  It's not that I have plans...well I do, but so does he, and they are in different directions.&lt;br /&gt;3. Giddyness.  There is a slight giddyness, but it's not the level that I usually expect in a relationship.  I don't know if this is because we were friends first, or it's because I am not attracted to him as much.  I know I am attracted to him though.&lt;br /&gt;4. Interests.  We have a lot in common, but a lot is different though.  Luckily they are not huge things, but you know what they say.  The little things eventually turn into bigger things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I just being dumb? paranoid?  maybe even schizo?  Quit.  I Quit.  I choose life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding on, but I need to quit. It hurts. This is why I need to get out and experience different things. If I stay the same for a long period of time it doesn't make me stable, it makes me restless. He understands that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-5970476777048649469?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/5970476777048649469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=5970476777048649469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5970476777048649469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5970476777048649469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-choose-life.html' title='I choose Life'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-4575010026789219917</id><published>2008-12-04T12:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:21:54.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Life is full of surprises.  Normally I like surprises, but for a while I want things back to the way they were...minus the ocd and some other things.  School is over in 2 weeks which is pretty exciting.  I turn 21 in one month from today and I will be in VEGAS!!!  One full week of climbing outdoors.  Sigh.  Just need to get through this next month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's moving back, but it's for her.  I don't know exactly how I feel about this, except that I think it's risky.  Moving with a girl that you've been dating long distance for a month or so?  I don't want him to get hurt again.  God, I miss him.  Especially this time of year.  I hate winter and snow and Christmas festivities...he made it better cuz at least I had someone to help me through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I should go to lab and then work, and then a long night of studying for a test and quiz and a paper I have to write by tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-4575010026789219917?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/4575010026789219917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=4575010026789219917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/4575010026789219917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/4575010026789219917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-is-full-of-surprises.html' title=''/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-7143739045390923701</id><published>2008-11-11T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T17:59:24.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SRo4EanxzaI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Zn1ID_jA81I/s1600-h/821535-R1-E002_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267584362680012194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SRo4EanxzaI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Zn1ID_jA81I/s200/821535-R1-E002_002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What happened? So I developed those cameras from last year and the pictures made me laugh, but not a laugh as in happy...a laugh that covers tears. &lt;strong&gt;we were happy.&lt;/strong&gt; I just don't understand how you can do it. a month and a half ago we were laying under the stars in a sleeping bag. Now we don't even talk anymore. I can't tell you my true thoughts on the whole dating thing right now cuz I don't know enough about it to even begin to judge, but from the outside, it doesn't look good. But you two know what you are doing. Hopefully she doesn't hurt you like I did. For that I am eternally sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a lighter note...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Kelso and I watched Hot Fuzz today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I attempted to make hot spiced tea ( I just realized that both those started with hot...ironic)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. You would have loved the sunset the other night. Blue, purple, and yellow clouds with rays streaming through them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. We have a competition on the 22nd, you should come watch, it's in omaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tell mom and dad hi from me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-7143739045390923701?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/7143739045390923701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=7143739045390923701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7143739045390923701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7143739045390923701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m sorry'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SRo4EanxzaI/AAAAAAAAAAY/Zn1ID_jA81I/s72-c/821535-R1-E002_002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-7316588408719210717</id><published>2008-10-31T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T17:10:44.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The true Home</title><content type='html'>I want to be a strong Christian woman.  Am I there?  I don't think I am.  I have a tough time applying Christianity to my life sometimes.  I try to have patience and be virtuous, but I just lose it sometimes.  I don't know what it is lately but sometimes I just want to go home.  Not home as in my parents' house, &lt;em&gt;home&lt;/em&gt; as in heaven.  I have this theory that we are all with God in heaven before we are born.  All of our memories of heaven are wiped clean once we are hung upside down, screaming.  This is why babies cry.  They realize that they have to live down here and have a faint remembering of watching from heaven all the turmoil and stress that an earthly life entails.  But God didn't wipe the slate completely clean.  Those moments in our lives that take our breath away:  The mountainous view, the sunsets, the 'I love yous'...those are the little pieces of heaven that God puts on Earth so we remember that one day we will be back with him.   So to bring it all back, I want to be in heaven, my original home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I make this happen though...I have a whole life ahead of me.  Today, the sub veterinarian at the clinic asked me why I wanted to be a veterinarian, and I couldn't think of a great answer.  I mean I know I want to be a veterinarian, but I don't have a specific reason why.  Here is what I got:&lt;br /&gt;1.  I don't dread going to work.&lt;br /&gt;2.  I love animals.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I love the human-animal correspondence and the joy people feel from their pets.&lt;br /&gt;4.  The medical aspect fascinates me.&lt;br /&gt;5.  The only human medical field that interests me would be pediatrics, which is pretty much the human version of an "animal"...&lt;br /&gt;6.  ...&lt;br /&gt; Um...ya it's all pretty lame stuff.  Besides knowing that I was going to be a vet since I was about 12 years old (which is the cliche answer), I don't have some monumental reason for being one.  Until I thought of this---I believe God put me on this earth to be a veterinarian.  He gave me the ability to love animals and the skills to still work with people.  I am good at school and I enjoy it, so it all kind of lines up.  If I had a passion for working in the human field, trust me, I would cuz it pays almost twice as much starting salary.  He didn't give me the passion to work with humans though.  I can read animals.  It's just a gift. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to make a long blog short...Being a vet is how I am going to serve God and be a good Christian.  Now, other parts of my life like relationships and family...I am letting Him take control because I honestly can't control that.  But someday I hope it's enough for me to be doing my work for Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-7316588408719210717?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/7316588408719210717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=7316588408719210717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7316588408719210717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7316588408719210717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/10/true-home.html' title='The true Home'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-8361270129783039511</id><published>2008-10-21T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T07:31:36.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tidal</title><content type='html'>If you are lunar, I am tidal, constantly affected by your distance from me.  When you're near, I'm strong.  I ebb when you're away.  During the day, I cycle for the people and animals that depend on me for life, entertainment, and beauty.  At night I await the full moon that exposes me and shows me just how far I am supposed to go on land.  My love for you is still there whether you wax or wane, but this new moon has left me confused and churning.  I try to flow normally, but it's almost impossible without your rays shimmering on my waters that reflect the map of stars you feel so lost in.  How long will this new moon last?  I want to see the man in the moon who lulls me to sleep amongst the hurricanes and pollution on this earth.  Come back lunar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-8361270129783039511?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/8361270129783039511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=8361270129783039511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/8361270129783039511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/8361270129783039511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/10/tidal.html' title='Tidal'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-7735668044529130035</id><published>2008-10-11T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T06:12:16.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seeing you.</title><content type='html'>I knew you before you were a tinman, and all I have to say is that I love&lt;strong&gt; you&lt;/strong&gt;. You, not the tinman you are classifying yourself as or the moon in the sky whose so far away.  In response to that...The reason it became so hideous is because in trying not to hurt one another and following "protocol" for what's to be done in this situation...we never just followed our hearts.  Now, we're paying for it.  Our hearts are telling us one thing but we constantly think that we &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to treat each other a certain way because we are in this status.  It's bullshit is what it is.  We loved each other ( I say loved, because I don't know how you feel anymore) and had an amazing relationship where each of us thought that there was no one else in the world that would be greater.  But then, it got tough and instead of thinking of ourselves and the repercussions of not being together, we thought of others.  And now we're miserable.  Don't think that I am so happy...cuz I'm not.  Every night I lay in my bed and face the inside because you're supposed to be there.  After about 5 min, I turn to the outside and wish and pray that you figure it out someday.  You see, I have always wanted to be with you, but when you shut me out of your life, I am going to respect that.  Which is why I don't call you.  I expect you to make the first move because if I do, I'm afraid you won't respond.  So make the first move...   Seeing you at the wall yesterday made my heart race.  I didn't know what to do, as well as not knowing what to say.  Sorry if I came off a little uncordial.  I miss you and it's hard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-7735668044529130035?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/7735668044529130035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=7735668044529130035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7735668044529130035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/7735668044529130035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/10/seeing-you.html' title='Seeing you.'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-2728490673380656115</id><published>2008-09-29T02:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T02:14:44.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coded</title><content type='html'>If you could see.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are sore.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot tell you how much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you mean.&lt;br /&gt;I try my best to forgive.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts to not have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me and the person.&lt;br /&gt;It keeps hurting and you run.&lt;br /&gt;You here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You once were.&lt;br /&gt;It's fear and regret.&lt;br /&gt;It will pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dance, a laugh, a cry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm a person you don't.&lt;br /&gt;Solved not with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The promises of better.&lt;br /&gt;Think you can trust.&lt;br /&gt;But your own ways would help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times are hard to see.&lt;br /&gt;It hurts to see the mess I confront.&lt;br /&gt;I miss the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the blur of alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;When we both cannot just rest.&lt;br /&gt;Who loved me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dance with me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-2728490673380656115?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/2728490673380656115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=2728490673380656115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/2728490673380656115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/2728490673380656115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/09/coded.html' title='Coded'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-5690234775941897437</id><published>2008-09-09T08:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T08:11:51.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Journal Entry:  If you read it...</title><content type='html'>September 1, 2008&lt;br /&gt;            Life is not easy.  Most of the time it’s not even fun.  I realized today that I have grown up a lot.  Growing up is not what I thought it would be.  When I was younger I always thought things would be so sequential.  First, I would go to college, meet the man of my dreams, we would get married, graduate college, have kids, and grow old.  Wisdom would just follow and decisions were never too tough.  Now that I am there, in that crossroad in my life were things could be changing, I realize that I am in college, I lost the love of my life, marriage is a ways away, graduation not so far away, and children are definitely not an option for the next six years.  Also, wisdom is not something that comes…it is acquired.  I am constantly making decisions in my life, and it’s not that one is more right than another but more that the choice I make influences the future choices I make.  True wisdom is knowing what to do because you have made that choice before.  So in a way making mistakes are a good thing.  I miss Sean.  And it’s not the kind of miss where I miss talking to him and seeing him, because I just saw him this past weekend.  It is the kind of miss where I wish I didn’t have college and a career ahead of me.  I want to run away so bad right now.  I want to be on top of a mountain in Colorado in a sleeping bag watching all the stars in the sky.  Or I want to be in the middle of a field with the sound of locusts buzzing around me.  I just want to be anywhere but here.  Here is a place that the past follows me everywhere constantly telling me that I messed up.  I never should have broken up with Sean and let my father influence me like that.  I know God’s plan for me is bigger but it is taking all of me to let Him lead in my life.  It hurts.  I have never had this kind of pain.  I know that I need to be there for Sean as a friend right now and the option of being together is nearly obsolete.  I feel like I caused his hurt and depression and confusion though and that is what’s bothering me.  I feel like I should be the one to make it all better.  It’s not about me though.  How can I be so vain?&lt;br /&gt;            There are these moments in the days, I call them bricks, when everything hits me.  I will be laughing one moment and then I remember.  I remember how I felt when I stood in front of you at Outdoor Rec and told you that I guess it’s over.  I remember how I could barely stand up when we hugged good bye and you kissed me on the forehead.  The months I spent defending you when anyone would try to say that I shouldn’t be with you.  They didn’t understand the love we had/have for each other.  I don’t know what else to do with the bricks but make a wall.  I have been building them up one by one.  Slowly, I build this wall between us because I think that’s what you want.  You want me or you to forget the times we had together.  The times we laughed so hard at one another that we about peed our pants.  The numerous times we danced in the middle of places.  The kisses that made my heart drop…this last weekend, the first kiss we had was one of them.  The good bye hugs over the past six months.  We’ve been through a lot.  I just hope that one day when you look back you don’t just see a brick wall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-5690234775941897437?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/5690234775941897437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=5690234775941897437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5690234775941897437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/5690234775941897437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/09/journal-entry-if-you-read-it.html' title='A Journal Entry:  If you read it...'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-3766913190392453864</id><published>2008-09-05T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T20:14:50.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bridge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SMH1nhW5ggI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/fV6gsqK2AoI/s1600-h/100_0149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242741500554084866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SMH1nhW5ggI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/fV6gsqK2AoI/s200/100_0149.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Standing on a bridge looking both ways and wondering which to take. The way you came is only a short jog to safe land, known territory, and familiar people. The other way is too far off to know whether it's worth the long run, and storm clouds are rolling in. But there is a third option...the free fall over the edge. If you have a fascination for falling, it seems the best option. Plummeting into cool waters below. But do you know the true depth of the river below? Is it full of rocks that could kill you or is it so deep it that the current would sweep you away to another state? So what do you do...Jump? Run? or Jog? Jumping is easy. You can jump anyday of your life. Running takes perseverance, conditioning...people will think you are crazy. Especially when you are a sprinter--a person who doesn't deal with the chaos and threatening well. The thing about a sprinter though, is that the rain doesn't bother them, but the hurdles slow them down. make them run for distance and it takes them a little longer than most. And jogging....it's a complete bore to a sprinter. They long to get out ahead of everyone else, to have to open lane ahead of them, to be alone, or at least feel like it. So again what do you choose? Another option is to balance on the edge of the bridge and wait for the next person passing to push you over the edge--technically you didn't jump right? It'll take longer to get to the other side that way. Choose! quick! The storm clouds are rolling in... I choose to run. It's the scenery that gets me. The fellow runners I see coming back the other way, the new hills that emerge half way there, the sunset to my left that reminds mind of a moon soon to rise, and finally a million stars that make me feel incredibly small in this world...on this bridge...with Him by my side and the fresh cool air in my lungs. It's going to be worth the run because afterall I am a sprinter...I live for the few moments that I get to be in my own lane without the confusion, judging, and stress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-3766913190392453864?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/3766913190392453864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=3766913190392453864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/3766913190392453864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/3766913190392453864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/09/bridge.html' title='The Bridge'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SMH1nhW5ggI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/fV6gsqK2AoI/s72-c/100_0149.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-3638350992360421113</id><published>2008-09-03T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T13:11:18.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't have your cake and eat it too...</title><content type='html'>Bullshit!! That was my response to this saying when I was in high school.  And I still have that attitude about things, &lt;em&gt;but&lt;/em&gt; it's modified.  My career and school and relationships are really weighing me down right now.  I want to be a vet which takes a lot of dedication.   At the same time I want to be one of the best female climbers, or at least be able to climb once I have a decent job.  And most of all I want to have a family that understands.  My career is kinda scaring me though.  I know I can do it and I know that it is what I love to do...but I don't want to be the mom who ships her kids off to daycare for 9 hours a day and is too tired to spend time with them when I get home.  Plus, it's hard to find a guy that can handle my kind of determination (aka..stubbornness??) and understand why I do it.  I do a lot of things for other people...correction, &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt;.  Being a vet is something I am doing for myself.  My religion and relationship with God and his Son is another thing I am doing.  I guess what's been making me think about this so much is that I have to take Gin to play in a backyard for 9-10 hours a day 3 days a week because I don't have enough time to let her out.  I don't want to do that to my children.  And maybe I won't.  I guess my hours will be what I make them.  So me having my cake and eating it too is kinda my goal, but I am not nearly as assured as I used to be.  On a different note...I need strength and prayers because I have to stand for my beliefs again this Sunday when I tell my mom that I am not going to take Communion at church.  Sometimes I just want to cut the rope...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-3638350992360421113?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/3638350992360421113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=3638350992360421113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/3638350992360421113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/3638350992360421113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/09/you-cant-have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too.html' title='You can&apos;t have your cake and eat it too...'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-8234065167941433480</id><published>2008-08-29T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T07:39:29.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is a monopoly</title><content type='html'>There are a lot of things in life that you can't change.  Like...you're going to die, who your parents are, the time period you were born into, and numerous other things.  But, the good part is that there are a lot of other things that you CAN change in your life.  Ya you may hurt some people along the way, and definitely are going to catch grief for it, but if you truly think that it will be the best for you and your future, then you should do it.  Life is constantly overruling us.  We can't defeat it or tackle it, but...we can be true players in it.  It's like monopoly...we can't overtake it, but we can play the game.  I'm not the one to tell people what to do, and I like that about myself.  Most people would say that people are going to take advantage of me that way...I say that&lt;em&gt; that&lt;/em&gt; is &lt;em&gt;their&lt;/em&gt; problem, not mine.  Maybe I am way too optimistic in thinking that people have a good nature.  I think it comes from me thinking that all creation comes from God and so they have to be inheritly good.  Which is another reason I don't really hold grudges.  I don't know, it just seems like I have been judged so much and know what it feels like, so I don't judge other people cuz I don't want them to feel like that.  I grew up in that environment (the small community where everyone is the same so when diversity comes, it gets a HUGE slap in the face and is ostracised).  Not really the Christian way for a predominantly Christian community.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-8234065167941433480?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/8234065167941433480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=8234065167941433480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/8234065167941433480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/8234065167941433480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/08/life-is-monopoly.html' title='Life is a monopoly'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880126159226214493.post-2298870715839780860</id><published>2008-08-24T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T00:09:51.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My life in a book</title><content type='html'>So I am reading a book called &lt;em&gt;High Infatuation &lt;/em&gt;by Steph Davis, a well-known female climber, and it is changing my life. When I read it, it is like I am reading a story of me. Kinda scary, but cool if I could ever get that good in climbing. So what if she is a dirtbag climber. I feel no need to judge anyone cuz in the end it doesn't really matter.&lt;br /&gt;You are probably wondering why I called my blog "the end...at least temporarily." Well for the past-let's see-6 months I have been struggling trying to get the love of my life back, battling with my parents over religion, and determining what I am going to do with the rest of my life. Today, I finally decided to stop fighting and rely on God. Now I have done this a few times in the past couple months, but I always seem to think that I can take over about midway through. I guess the event that really changed things around for me was when 'Sweej' , the love of my life' decided that he didn't want me to come climbing with him because he was afraid it would send the wrong messages. I was furious and hurt. And after talking to a good friend who asked me about the situation, I learned that I cannot and never have been able to control this one. I've realized in the past year that I like to control things in my life, and it has been a severe struggle to 'let go and let God' as it's said. I have a career to focus on right now, and as selfish as that sounds, there are somethings that I have to do solely for me. If I get into CSU in two years for vet school, it will be a sign from God. If not, I will be bummed but it just means it will take me longer to get to him. So that is why it is called the end...temporarily. I am not saying Goodbye, I am saying not now. And I am scared as shit too. Letting him go means I might lose him forever, but if it is Godsent like I think it is, and we truly have a soul tie (I will elaborate in a later blog...maybe. It's pretty deep and personal), then we'll meet again. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/880126159226214493-2298870715839780860?l=stephclimb.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/feeds/2298870715839780860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=880126159226214493&amp;postID=2298870715839780860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/2298870715839780860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/880126159226214493/posts/default/2298870715839780860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stephclimb.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-life-in-book.html' title='My life in a book'/><author><name>stela_21</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01438341509894995049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eQWwY8BiwrM/SlwCZ5GTQwI/AAAAAAAAAAk/W-iWB5z46Po/S220/DSCN0651.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
