<?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-15891331</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:42:19.947-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Outside of the Real World</title><subtitle type='html'>Seize the moment of excited curiosity on any subject to solve your doubts; for if you let it pass, the desire may never return, and you may remain in ignorance. 
William Wirt</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-6225396003247482654</id><published>2008-07-08T22:18:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:58:39.858-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trusting... with my whole being</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:verdana,arial,helvetica;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Jealousy is not a barometer by which the depth of love can be read, it merely records the degree of the lover's insecurity." Margaret Mead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I came across this quote and it got me to thinkin...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I am not a jealous wife.  I haven't always not been a jealous wife, but now, I am not.  When we were young and just beginning our relationship, I was OH SO jealous of the very thought of him showing even the slightest bit of interest in another girl. Get it? I was J-to-the-ealous. Back then, though, he broke my heart time and time again, thinking he was in love with "that girl", (yep, that's what I called her...hell, that's still what I call her when we reminisce) blah, blah. We got through it. I persevered. And, heh, I won him...over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I think my current state of calm comes from the fact that I trust my husband with everything I have.  I know that where he lays his head at night is with me and am confident that this will never change.  I think, even more importantly though, it comes from a certain improvement in my own sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I am coming to terms with myself, with my past.  I am becoming more comfortable with WHO I am. I'm satisfied with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I guess liking myself kinda gives me more reason to believe that he should like me, too. How perfect!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-6225396003247482654?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6225396003247482654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=6225396003247482654' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/6225396003247482654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/6225396003247482654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2008/07/trusting-with-my-whole-being.html' title='Trusting... with my whole being'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-285742457837166768</id><published>2008-01-22T12:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T12:23:03.432-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heater</title><content type='html'>This is my absolute least favorite time of year.  For the record, I despise being cold, and during the winter, it seems like I'm cold to the core. But, there is one bright spot!  I LOVE being able to crawl into bed late at night and sidle up next to my heater, AKA Billy. Our internal thermostats are so vastly different, it's amazing, really.  I can be freezing and he will complain of being burning hot.  How is this possible? He swears I have poor circulation, which I'm not denying, because there must be some reasonable scientific explanation as to how two people can experience the same room temperature in two totally different ways.  Anyway, during the summer, you can bet your bottom dollar that he will NOT let me snuggle, cuddle or otherwise touch him in bed (eh-hem, unless...), but during the winter, I get this perk!  I actually think he kinda likes it when I come put my freeeeezing cold body, legs, toes and hands on him while he's sleeping.  Perhaps it's something like a cool breeze to him? Who knows.  But what I DO know is that I truly appreciate our temperature variations at this time of year, this time of night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snuggling in the winter. Perfection!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-285742457837166768?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/285742457837166768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=285742457837166768' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/285742457837166768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/285742457837166768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2008/01/heater.html' title='Heater'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-4977410584129336655</id><published>2008-01-08T12:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T12:50:29.604-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions</title><content type='html'>Okay. It's true.  I'm in love...with my phone.  Ever since I got my blackberry, I can't put it down, I feel naked without it.  And I've had it for quite some time, now.  I've discovered texting and now have a plan to cover it.  Therefore, texting is my new favorite way to communicate.  The reasons are numerous...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, you can convey a message without having a long drawn out conversation filled with niceties.  B, you can text fairly nonchalantly...you know, while working or doing just about anything. Thirdly, naughty texting is fun; if you haven't tried it, you should ;) D, the blackberry is just THAT fun to use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who's with me? Who's with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-4977410584129336655?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4977410584129336655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=4977410584129336655' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/4977410584129336655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/4977410584129336655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2008/01/confessions.html' title='Confessions'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-8073737661584090947</id><published>2008-01-03T03:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T03:05:52.308-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey ya, version 2</title><content type='html'>Came across this little diddy and LOVED it.  Enjoy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8-8nkkOA_AM&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8-8nkkOA_AM&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&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/15891331-8073737661584090947?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8073737661584090947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=8073737661584090947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/8073737661584090947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/8073737661584090947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2008/01/hey-ya-version-2.html' title='Hey ya, version 2'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-6466541399626904692</id><published>2007-12-26T12:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T20:59:29.069-06:00</updated><title type='text'>it's all over but the cleaning</title><content type='html'>And thank goodness. Nah, actually, once I got all the holiday "prerequisites" out of the way, I was able to calm down and enjoy the days. We do have a lot of celebrations...especially&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_73eAaT4D_Xw/R3MUOE0M4QI/AAAAAAAAABU/g6V-uKgET0M/s1600-h/Christmas+2007+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_73eAaT4D_Xw/R3MUOE0M4QI/AAAAAAAAABU/g6V-uKgET0M/s320/Christmas+2007+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148481031058022658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; with Billy's family, but for the most part it's fun times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most exciting thing is...Santa brought us a kitty. And the plan went off without a hitch. Santa went to pick up the kitty on Monday afternoon. She stayed in the camper until the girls went to bed on Monday night, Christmas Eve. Then Santa put all the presents out, ate the milk and cookies, dispersed the reindeer food, and brought the kitty in the house. Now, the original plan called for this precious little cat to stay in Mom and Dad's room until the early morning hours. But...she would not shut up. I guess the new environment coupled with not getting any attention while we were TRYING to sleep was too much and the meowing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;commenced&lt;/span&gt;. As you can imagine, this did not exactly sit well with Billy. HA! And the tirade started...something about him not even wanting that stupid cat to begin with and something else about how&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_73eAaT4D_Xw/R3MQRE0M4OI/AAAAAAAAABE/Cbymp3WYU74/s1600-h/Christmas+2007+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_73eAaT4D_Xw/R3MQRE0M4OI/AAAAAAAAABE/Cbymp3WYU74/s320/Christmas+2007+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148476684551119074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I would not stop until he agreed...something else about how he couldn't believe he agreed. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yada&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yada&lt;/span&gt;.  Anyway.  The cat ended up being put out of our room around 1 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, around 2 am, we hear the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pitter&lt;/span&gt; patter of little feet coming to tell us of Santa's delivery. If I wasn't so damn tired, I might have gotten to enjoy that exchange a little more, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;. However, I will always remember the year that Chloe's faith in Santa was renewed...and it needed to be, I think. Apparently, there are lots of second graders who no longer believe in Santa. How sad is that? Even sadder that they feel the need to squash the other kids believe. Anyway, I'm fairly sure that if Santa would not have followed through with this kitty delivery, it might have been the end of it for her. I know it's coming sooner or later, but I wasn't ready to let it go just yet. It's a magical time, people. Let's keep it that way! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*edited to add pictures...LYNN!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-6466541399626904692?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6466541399626904692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=6466541399626904692' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/6466541399626904692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/6466541399626904692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2007/12/its-all-over-but-cleaning.html' title='it&apos;s all over but the cleaning'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_73eAaT4D_Xw/R3MUOE0M4QI/AAAAAAAAABU/g6V-uKgET0M/s72-c/Christmas+2007+031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-1462131876345091135</id><published>2007-12-14T12:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T12:57:08.861-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy time of year</title><content type='html'>So. Sometimes I get kinda grouchy around this time of year.  I kindly refer to myself as a Scrooge. But it's for good reason, I think.  Honestly, I don't do well when I am overly busy...any time of year...but this Season sometimes puts me over the top.  Between trying to keep up "traditions" (sending out cards with updates and pictures), getting the girls Santa picture made to hang on the tree, picking/buying/wrapping a slew of gifts, deciding what we are going to do for Christmas dinner, dealing with Chloe's near-Christmas birthday (and the list goes on...), I often feel like I'm just going crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some years, I'm ahead of the game. Most years, I'm not.  And on the years I'm not, things just end up going by the wayside.  That's just the way it goes.  This year, what's going by the wayside is cards.  For good reason...one of my lovelies has lost my address book.  So. I do not have any addresses for next of kin, friends, or any-freakin-body.  Nice.  Anyway, please don't be offended if you don't get a Christmas card.  It's not because I didn't think about you :) but somethings gotta give.  This year, this is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, we decided to get Chloe a new bedroom for her birthday/Christmas.  So, we repainted, got her new furniture, got a new bedspread and curtains, and light fixture.  I think she's in love with it...I know I am!  She's been really great about keeping it picked up and tidy since we redid it, so I'm proud of her for that!  Anyway, since we did that for her, her Christmas has been pared down.  I intended to cut it down even more, but I guess my guilty conscience got the best of me, thinking of her not having much to open (though, I discussed it with her prior to making the "deal", and she was prepared for that).  Needless to say, she'll still have plenty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM ready for this joyous holiday season to be over, though.  Christmas is NOT my favorite time of year.  I think that I'm not the only person to feel that the "marketability"of the season has done a bit to downplay the warm-fuzzies.  Or maybe I'm just jaded? What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-1462131876345091135?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1462131876345091135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=1462131876345091135' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/1462131876345091135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/1462131876345091135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2007/12/busy-time-of-year.html' title='Busy time of year'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-5532518660947859206</id><published>2007-12-12T23:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T00:40:46.769-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Under pressure</title><content type='html'>So. I've been instructed to blog. And I felt like now was as good a time as any. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some funny things have been happening to those around me.  Everyone seems to be thinking deep thoughts, drudging up deep feelings, contemplating.  Change is in the air. Hopefully, change for the better, but it pains me to see my friends in turmoil.  And the worst part is, there's not a thing I can do to change any person's situation but my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even then, sometimes I feel powerless.  I'm the world's worst about getting stuck in ruts. Seriously. I don't like change and never have (which I'm sure stems from the never ending chaos that was my childhood...but that's a tale for a different day). So, sometimes, I just stay. Stuck. Where I don't necessarily want to be.  It could be stuck in a way of thinking or stuck in a place or stuck in a habit. And, of course, as a half-way intelligent person, I typically can see this, even as it's occurring. But, alas, "seeing" it does nothing to help me move past, through, or beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, then, sometimes I get inspired. It could be by a book or an episode of Oprah or from reading a friends blog...which is the best way.  I love being inspired by people I know.  Then it somehow seems more apropos to my life. Regardless, it's when I'm inspired to change, that good things happen.  Which is the point of this blog.  I'm sorry to see my friends suffering, but damnit, some of the things that come out of their blogs is downright impressive. And, this is why I love my friends.  The beauty of it all is...many of them likely don't even know the impact they have on me.  So, for future reference, if you're my friend, know you continually inspire me. To change. To get un-stuck. To move. So. Here are some beautiful/hysterical musings that have struck me lately (you know who you are):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Garamond;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Garamond;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Sometimes it makes my views and opinions become unclear and I look like a chameleon, with no strong personality of my own."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I worry that one day she will lose this playful and pure innocence and that it will be my fault...somehow....that I will inadvertently take it away from her....or she will just fall victim to *growing up too fast* or *pressures to fit in*. Why can't I just keep her like this forever....she's so happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well that's all I got for now... my head is throbbing, my kids are annoying and I need a drink."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No questions asked, no sermons, no speeches, no judgements; just a cold beer, a hug, and a true friendship."&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"I knew that my puppies were part of our family. They ARE our family. It feels like a family member is missing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So after screaming every known obscenity that I have in my verbal repertoire I look down to see that I have the word Heatilator tattooed across 3 fingers on my right hand...awesome."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mmmmm. I'm grateful for those every single time because crusty ketchup kisses won't always be here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That because someone does not love you the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on that note, I just want to say...my baby sister is a constant source of inspiration to me.  She likely doesn't know it. But it's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I know it, and that's what matters.&lt;span style="font-family: Garamond; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Garamond;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-5532518660947859206?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5532518660947859206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=5532518660947859206' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/5532518660947859206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/5532518660947859206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2007/12/under-pressure.html' title='Under pressure'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-112606501654089991</id><published>2005-09-06T22:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T22:50:16.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it just me, or is anyone else having this problem?</title><content type='html'>It just occurred to me that I have not truly been soaking in this hurricane devastation as I feel I should.  It's like I have been watching the coverage from some safe place far away...even in my brain.  Then, tonight, it hit me for some reason.  My God, what would I do if it were me?  I can't even imagine what these people must be going through...no house to return to, no job to return to, many times, no family to return to.  When they say devastation, it is true in so many senses of the word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-112606501654089991?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/112606501654089991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=112606501654089991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112606501654089991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112606501654089991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2005/09/is-it-just-me-or-is-anyone-else-having.html' title='Is it just me, or is anyone else having this problem?'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-112525768224497581</id><published>2005-08-28T14:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T14:38:35.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/282/7628/320/100_2238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/282/7628/320/100_2238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wide Eyed and Bushy Tailed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought you might enjoy the first day of school pictures.  Chloe started Kindergarten.  Can you believe that 5 years have passed since she was born?  By the way, she is loving it and comes home with something new to share daily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-112525768224497581?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/112525768224497581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=112525768224497581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112525768224497581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112525768224497581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2005/08/wide-eyed-and-bushy-tailed-thought-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-112525758370977852</id><published>2005-08-28T14:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T14:33:03.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/282/7628/320/100_2232.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/282/7628/320/100_2232.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chloe on her first day of Kindergarten&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-112525758370977852?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/112525758370977852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=112525758370977852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112525758370977852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112525758370977852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2005/08/chloe-on-her-first-day-of-kindergarten.html' title=''/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15891331.post-112524403695679303</id><published>2005-08-28T12:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T10:47:16.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not really doing this...am I?</title><content type='html'>I just set up this account so I could post comments to those bloggers I call my friends.  But as I sit here, I contemplate...maybe I have something to offer.  Or maybe not.  I will certainly have to hone my writing skills.  Ugh.  I don't feel like I have written well since high school.  Is that possible?  So, we shall see if this continues.&lt;br /&gt;~S&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15891331-112524403695679303?l=justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/feeds/112524403695679303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15891331&amp;postID=112524403695679303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112524403695679303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15891331/posts/default/112524403695679303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justoutsideoftherealworld.blogspot.com/2005/08/im-not-really-doing-thisam-i.html' title='I&apos;m not really doing this...am I?'/><author><name>Stormy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03240238498227472625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
