<?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-5088351328629795212</id><updated>2011-08-30T05:12:30.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something clever</title><subtitle type='html'>Something vague</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-7025680127822661928</id><published>2010-03-17T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T19:11:13.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in one of those moods where I really want to change the world.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blake Mycowskie, the founder of TOMS came to Ball State to speak tonight --&lt;i&gt; The New Rules for Tomorrow's Business: A Student's Guide to Making a Difference in the World. &lt;/i&gt;I want his life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;His business strategy -- (1)giving and (2)incorporating something bigger than yourself. I think that's an exemplary strategy, whether it be for starting a business or in any aspect of life. After I went to DC this summer I had really big life plans. I wasn't quite sure of the details of them, but I knew they were going to be big and they were going to be important. When I started taking classes I started to think about how impractical those plans seemed - I want a family and feel obligated to stay in the country with my family. BUT! When is life ever practical? I don't think God takes into consideration practicality when he maps out your life for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really know where my life is going, but I wholeheartedly believe I am on the path I need to be on. My major/minors are hopefully leading me to do great things. I really just want a job where I can help people -- where I can feel good about who I am and how I'm spending my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love getting into these "I want to change the world" moods because it makes me really excited for the rest of my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-7025680127822661928?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/7025680127822661928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-in-one-of-those-moods-where-i-really.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/7025680127822661928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/7025680127822661928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-in-one-of-those-moods-where-i-really.html' title=''/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-5724691389242076234</id><published>2010-02-18T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T16:06:11.357-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentimental Heart</title><content type='html'>So my friends and I are doing this &gt; www.radicalexperiment.org &lt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; Abraham was willing to sacrafice his own son because God asked him to. Think about the person you love the most in this world and imagine God asking you to kill that person. Could you do it? I don't think I could.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How much control do you really exert over your life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I've been thinking a lot lately about what God wants for me and more so, if I want those things too. It's hard for me to decipher my wishes vs. God's. I had to spend hours last semester creating my four year plan -- it almost seems futile. I've always hated planning out things more than a year in advance because circumstances change so quickly. I don't want to make promises or plans that I can't keep. Lately, I've been abiding by a day by day philosophy more than anything. Even though I don't know what my life will look like even one month from now, I'm excited. For the first time ever, I'm excited for the unknown. This is me letting go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-5724691389242076234?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/5724691389242076234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/02/sentimental-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5724691389242076234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5724691389242076234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/02/sentimental-heart.html' title='Sentimental Heart'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-2545827611442038575</id><published>2010-02-12T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T10:55:29.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fix You</title><content type='html'>I went to Books a Million today and was looking for the book &lt;i&gt;Crazy Love. &lt;/i&gt;The cutest little girl, about 6ish, ever was also in the religious section with her dad. She was begging her dad for a bible for her birthday, which is adorable. Her dad said something along the lines of no, we're getting you something better than that. That made me so so sad. I feel like I relate to that little girl in some odd way. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm on a journey to God right now. I'm ready to give him complete control and, essentially, put all my eggs in His basket. This has been quite the journey. Allow me to start from last Friday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben and I were in my room talking like any normal Friday night and the conversation led to discussion of faith. I said that I hoped it wouldn't be an issue between us that he was more spiritual than I was because he was raised by strong Christian parents and I wasn't. I always considered my self to be Christian, but did little to prove it aside from praying and believing.  He said that it was and he felt that God lead us together so he could lead me to God. Thus, we ended our relationship. And, consequently, I found God. The stipulations of the break up included us staying best friends, which I was really excited about because who better to help me in my search for God than the person who lead me to God? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That Sunday I went to church and the sermon spoke to me; I felt like it was written specifically for me. I talked to my good friend here Jacqueline and she really helped me a lot with my quest for the Lord's wisdom. I felt really good and was so excited to finally embrace my Christianity. However, Ben and I talked again on Tuesday and he said that in order for us to heal and grow we couldn't remain friends or keep any sort of communication. From that conversation on I've just felt so much worse. I feel alright whenever someone sends me an inspirational bible verse. I know that I need to concentrate on growing with God right now and not worry about our relationship one way or another, and that's what I'm trying to do. The hardest part for me is knowing how happy I was with him and understanding that's not right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I trust God knows what's best for me. I trust this is for the best. It's just hard to accept that my best friend, for whatever reason, can't help me through this. I feel that I would feel so much better if he would just be my friend and accept that if God doesn't want us together our hearts will change instead of him indefinitely severing all communication between us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just have to keep telling myself this is what God wants. and He will make me stronger. This is for the best, even though I may not be able to see that and realize it now, I need to lean on God through this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isaiah 40:13&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you have any encouragement or wisdom, it would be so greatly appreciated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-2545827611442038575?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/2545827611442038575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/02/fix-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2545827611442038575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2545827611442038575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/02/fix-you.html' title='Fix You'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-903069908241145096</id><published>2010-02-12T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T19:50:17.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FAITH</title><content type='html'>NEW POST COMING SOON.&lt;div&gt;BE EXCITED.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OR NOT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;EITHER WAY, ATLEAST BE PREPARED TO OFFER HELP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-903069908241145096?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/903069908241145096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/02/faith.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/903069908241145096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/903069908241145096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2010/02/faith.html' title='FAITH'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-1190612083785720003</id><published>2009-09-06T09:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T10:00:12.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skinny Love</title><content type='html'>I never have time to write in this while at college, nor do I even think about it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I'm home for the weekend, wishing I were back at Ball State. Since the last time I've posted, I fell in love with college. Last week was pretty spectacular. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The big reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. On Monday, I received a telephone call from Invisible Children to book a screening at Ball State. They're coming on November 18th and I got Pruis Hall reserved, the largest lecture hall on campus. On the condition we find a faculty sponsor, that is. I'm confident we will. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Wednesday was my birthday. For the last month I've had really low expectations for my birthday, my rationale being that I was away from all my friends, already got my present, and had 7 hours of class that day. To my delight, my 8 and 10AM classes were cancelled that day and I got out of my 4:00 - 6:30 class an hour early. I later celebrated my birthday by going to Penn Station for dinner with Austin, Josh and Michelle. We played the craziest game of fuck kill or marry ever. Ever. (e.g: Snoopy, Scooby, or Wishbone). But this gets better. After dinner, my friends threw me a surprise party, fully adorned with streamers balloons, signs, cake, and those little things that shoot out confetti stuff at you and make the room wreak of smoke. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little Reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Too many to list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-1190612083785720003?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/1190612083785720003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/09/skinny-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1190612083785720003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1190612083785720003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/09/skinny-love.html' title='Skinny Love'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-1457965613658303109</id><published>2009-08-21T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T14:55:47.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We get on</title><content type='html'>This is the first entry I am typing from the 12'x16' room in which I now reside at Ball State University. I spent a lovely last night at home in Indianapolis. Goodbyes were a lot harder than I thought they would be. Clarissa and I spent a good deal of time talking about how strange of a concept it is to move away from everyone you care about. I mean, obviously it is to better yourselves but it seems like it shouldn't have to be this way.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In between awkward mingling and getting settled, I spent a good deal of time crying my eyes out yesterday. Notably in Pizza Hut whilst at lunch with my parents. After I unloaded and most of were things were settled this strange wave of immense sadness swept over me. I felt homesick, which is something I have never felt in my entire life, and still do. It's overpowering how much I miss everyone and everything. From my friends and family to my down comforter. I just miss the comforts of home and being able to see someone I'm close to and can share meaningful conversation with. I was such a mess most of the day yesterday and continue to cry from writing this. It's not like I haven't made any friends; I have. I'm just ready to feel comfortable with this. Everything and everyone is still so new to me. I'm excited to start classes and to get into a routine, but I'm more excited for my friends [hopefully! (Katie, you guys better come)] to visit next weekend. And I'm even more excited to go home for Labor Day weekend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It probably comes off like I hate college; I don't. I just get sad when I think about everyone back home and I start yearning for comfort. Ultimately, I really think I'll enjoy this a lot. It just takes some getting used to, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-1457965613658303109?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/1457965613658303109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-get-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1457965613658303109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1457965613658303109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-get-on.html' title='We get on'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-8076666665742054143</id><published>2009-08-13T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T23:34:18.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fences</title><content type='html'>The goodbyes have officially commenced. Even though I'm really excited to move, it's sad to see the summer end. It's just strange realizing that all the friends and activities I've grown so accustomed to this summer, and the past four years at that, are going to be drastically different in a matter of mere days now. There are some things I'm not ready to let go of yet. It's hard to realize that no matter how much effort I exert, even the closest friendships are going to be compromised. This is just me ranting and freaking out. I'm sure I'll love Ball State, I'm just a tiny bit terrified.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I watched &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;500 Days of Summer&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind&lt;/span&gt; this week. Both were excellent. I love being entranced by a good film. I also made a significant dent in packing this week. At least I would like to believe I have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH MY GOSH I LEAVE IN LESS THAN A WEEK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-8076666665742054143?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/8076666665742054143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/08/fences.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/8076666665742054143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/8076666665742054143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/08/fences.html' title='Fences'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-5117536196038496040</id><published>2009-08-02T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T23:13:11.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Too Too Fast</title><content type='html'>I feel like once I quit my job I'm going to have too much free time. Right now it seems as though I have a million things that need done before I leave, but none of them I really want to do. Like clean and pack and do more shopping and finish my book for school. I'm especially dreading packing because I have noooo idea what to bring, and I don't want to over pack like I always do. I made another dent in my dorm shopping today. Every time I browse through the aisles of Target or Walmart I always find more things I need that I hadn't previously thought of. It's frustrating. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night I had food poisoning, and I'm declaring it the most physical pain I've ever been in. I would love to divulge into details as to why it was so atrocious, but I'll spare you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow my plans consist of making a hair appointment and mending things that need mending. Also, I'm seriously considering going to Lollapalooza with Jeanette on Sunday. Hello, Vampire Weekend, Passion Pit, and Ra Ra Riot. It's so tempting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I3YPKaM6jw8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I3YPKaM6jw8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Rostam Batmangli so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-5117536196038496040?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/5117536196038496040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/08/too-too-too-fast.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5117536196038496040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5117536196038496040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/08/too-too-too-fast.html' title='Too Too Too Fast'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-1278019646863500198</id><published>2009-07-25T23:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T13:18:39.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>july, july</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Often, something truly awful must happen to ensure the reoccurrence of good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Life is essentially a constant ebb and flow of falling and rising. I usually stay towards the middle so my rises and falls aren't quite as drastic. This is why I'm okay with my life being mundane at times. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This summer, notably July, has been a constant series of highs and lows. Usually, from the bad comes good. But that works both ways. As soon as I peak I'm thrust right back downward.  But once at the bottom, it seems something good happens as a direct result of what brought me down. Like with my dad. When he was in the hospital it was one of the lowest points I've experienced, but because of that he stopped drinking. The universe always finds a way to even itself out. I'm assured of that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;It's so hard not to compare life to a roller-coaster. I feel lame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QmmS0iesZyY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QmmS0iesZyY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: normal; font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; Anyways. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  white-space: normal; font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This summer is coming to an abrupt end, it seems. My last shift at Don Pablo's is next Tuesday. It's kind of bitter sweet. Mostly just sweet, though. I'm not really sure what's bitter about it at all, actually, aside from the lack of funding I will be receiving. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Also, babysitting discourages me from ever wanting children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-1278019646863500198?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/1278019646863500198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/often-something-truly-awful-must-happen.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1278019646863500198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1278019646863500198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/often-something-truly-awful-must-happen.html' title='july, july'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-1299199776061273626</id><published>2009-07-12T20:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T21:47:03.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'>great expectations</title><content type='html'>The better my summer is going the harder it crashes, it seems. I think I'm visibly shaken by this one. It's just been one of those weeks where everything that could go wrong does... and more. This happened around the same time last year, too; only this time it's a lot different and a lot worse. It's hard to comprehend everything that's going on right now because everything seems so abstract. It's hard to explain, but I have no idea what this next week will bring, nor am I sure that I want to know. I'm terrified.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday morning I awake to my phone ringing. My mom is on the other line explaining she is in the emergency room with my dad. Soon after, I go to webmd.com to use the symptom search. As I was scrolling through the list, realization and worry simultaneously struck.  In the ER, the doctor explains to use that his blood work has them concerned about his liver. Basically, skipping all the medical jargon and details, his liver is on the verge of being inadequate and, in all likelihood, the main reason is his alcohol abuse. This led to a pretty epic breakdown; I rummaged through the entirety of our house searching for every ounce of alcohol so I could stand bawling in the back yard while I dumped it. Pretttty intense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As of now, it's more of a comfort having him in the hospital than being home. There, he says he's going to stop drinking. But there, he isn't necessarily tempted. It's easy to say that hooked to an IV moments after hearing half of his liver isn't functioning. I'm worried his mind will change on his way home from work as he skips out on the routine trip to the bar. This, essentially, is do or die. I'm just worried he won't seek the help he needs because I know he can't do this alone. This I know; this I've witnessed. At this point I feel I need to play the role of parent and actively force him to seek help. He won't otherwise, not that I'm even sure my intervention will really matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a strange epiphany today, as well. One of the reasons they are holding him in the hospital still is to check for withdrawal symptoms.  As we were leaving the hospital today my mom was explaining that to me and asked if I thought he seemed more irritable than normal. I couldn't answer that question; I don't know his normal. I've spent the entirety of my life attempting to distinguish "normal" from sober. I'm not sure that I can. I've always made the assumption that he was sober when I saw him in the morning and ... that's all. It's a shame that I can't make an accurate analysis of my dad's character. It's a reasonable assumption that spending a lifetime with somebody would allow that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope this is the kick in the ass he needed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope this week isn't hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope things start looking up again soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS: I don't feel like proof-reading this. If there are grammatical errors, I'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-1299199776061273626?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/1299199776061273626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/better-my-summer-is-going-harder-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1299199776061273626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/1299199776061273626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/better-my-summer-is-going-harder-it.html' title='great expectations'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-5292116370540752680</id><published>2009-07-09T14:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T14:31:08.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ftw</title><content type='html'>One time, I wrote a line paper for English about my dad's alcohol use.&lt;div&gt;I wonder how it would read if I wrote it today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yay, back to the hospital.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-5292116370540752680?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/5292116370540752680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/ftw.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5292116370540752680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5292116370540752680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/ftw.html' title='ftw'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-2460961901048601591</id><published>2009-07-02T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T10:26:34.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reeaaaally?</title><content type='html'>When I was getting ready to leave Monday morning I had some early morning news show on in the background -- Good Morning America, or something. To no surprise, they were talking about Michael Jackson. Then, much to my surprise, they continued to compare him to Barack Obama. Why? I have absolutely no idea. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do not understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also don't understand why notable news shows are STILL talking about this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, he was huuuge 20 years ago. He's not anymore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, his death was a tooootal surprise. We still haven't figured out what caused it. Until then, let's find something else to cover, shall we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; There are millions of  stories more important and worthy of media coverage than figuring out where his funeral will be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; "&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;&lt;br /&gt;The worlds revolve like ancient women&lt;br /&gt;Gathering fuel in vacant lots.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-2460961901048601591?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/2460961901048601591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/reeaaaally.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2460961901048601591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2460961901048601591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/07/reeaaaally.html' title='Reeaaaally?'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-2997370950359488592</id><published>2009-06-25T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T22:55:09.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uganda and Darfur aren't synonyms</title><content type='html'>I feel free and inspired.&lt;div&gt;The combination is exhilarating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I usually try to be fiscally conservative; I'm glad I splurged on this trip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I recently attended the How it Ends Lobby Days in DC; I can't even describe how life changing they were -- they were the most substantial days of my existence, thus far. There, I was able to absorb the wisdom of heartening speakers who impassioned me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will proceed by raving about how invigorated I am by Tom Shadyac. He is a director and producer of movies including Ace Ventura and Evan Almighty. Also adorning his resume is his activism for organizations such as Invisible Children. By far he is the most down to earth and free spirited man I've ever met. He moved from his mansion in LA to a trailer and has never been happier. I'm completely envious. At lunch Tuesday, we ran into him in the cafeteria so I took the initiative of interrupting his lunch to introduce ourselves and tell him how much I appreciated his speech. He got up from the table, gave me a hug, and proceeded to tell us how much he appreciated what we were doing, how we were going to to change the world, and that he loved us. All of this was said in stark sincerity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75U6hcAknv8&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He wasn't the only awing speaker there, just one of the most notable ones. Everyone there seemed to give off this passionate vibe that demanded attention and, in turn, evoked matching passion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm calling Ball State tomorrow to change my schedule. I'm not settling for a career that I'm not passionate about just because I feel the compulsion to be decisive. This epiphany came at a really opportune time. Being at the rallies, lobbying, and talking to Alie about the future ultimately helped me reach this decision. It's really important for me to let what I do now dictate my future rather than let what I think my future may possibly be dictate what I do now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone in DC possessed such passion about what they were apart of, as did I. I'm utilizing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-2997370950359488592?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/2997370950359488592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/uganda-and-darfur-arent-synonyms.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2997370950359488592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2997370950359488592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/uganda-and-darfur-arent-synonyms.html' title='Uganda and Darfur aren&apos;t synonyms'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-5899228037348350199</id><published>2009-06-13T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T22:04:22.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The DC trip is a week from tomorrow; I still don't have a definite answer. Apparently, the thought of my mom consenting makes her physically ill. She also doesn't think I'm responsible enough which blows my mind. I have two jobs, do my own laundry, and provide my own meals more often than not, which I think makes me pretty responsible. I honestly don't remember the last time my mom made a meal for me. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off subject: I wish my mom cooked for me more, and I wish that every once in a while my whole family, which is only 3 people, could cohere for one evening and enjoy a dinner together. I'm jealous of families with close bonds because I'm so distant from my dad. We are polar opposites. I wish I looked up to him. Rather, I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could&lt;/span&gt; look up to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to DC: It's disheartening that even though I'm forced to assume responsibility, I'm not entrusted with it. If she isn't comfortable with me going now, when will I be allowed to? I almost don't want to go anymore because I don't want this DC trip to double as a guilt trip. I shouldn't feel bad for wanting to lobby for Invisible Children, in my opinion at least. Maybe we need a third party to help negotiate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I don't think I picked the right major. aaah. I'm tempted to call and ask to change my schedule, but I don't know what I should change it to and would probably have to call back by the end of the summer and change it again next time I decide I'm on the wrong course. I took a career test today via some random website, it was actually more of a personality test than a career test, but the careers were based on 4 personality traits, and here are my career options:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="border-collapse: collapse;   font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;program designer&lt;br /&gt;attorney&lt;br /&gt;administrator&lt;br /&gt;office manager&lt;br /&gt;chemical engineer&lt;br /&gt;sales manager&lt;br /&gt;logistics consultant&lt;br /&gt;franchise owner&lt;br /&gt;new business developer&lt;br /&gt;personnel manager&lt;br /&gt;investment banker&lt;br /&gt;labor relations&lt;br /&gt;management trainer&lt;br /&gt;credit investigator&lt;br /&gt;mortgage broker&lt;br /&gt;corporate team trainer&lt;br /&gt;environmental engineer&lt;br /&gt;biomedical engineer&lt;br /&gt;business consultant&lt;br /&gt;educational consultant&lt;br /&gt;personal financial planner&lt;br /&gt;network integration...specialist&lt;br /&gt;media planner/buyer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Arial; font-size: 48px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "&gt;I think I should take a different test.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-5899228037348350199?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/5899228037348350199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/dc-trip-is-week-from-tomorrow-and-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5899228037348350199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/5899228037348350199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/dc-trip-is-week-from-tomorrow-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-2282918878124873811</id><published>2009-06-06T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T21:31:57.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>[In]decision</title><content type='html'>At some point in the last month I realized that I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was older. I had a medley of 'declared majors' over the past year before finally deciding I wanted to major in meteorology. I mean, I loved the movie &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Twister&lt;/span&gt; and watching The Weather Channel, and storms are my fav. So that was my logic behind that. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I was reading the prologue to Chapter 9 in finite, the text proclaimed that understanding Markov chains was imperative for predicting weather and an array of other fields. As it turns out, I wasn't able to complete that homework assignment. I was devastated... until I realized that I've never really liked math or science. I was instantly repulsed by the idea of taking 3 years of Calculus. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thus, I decided to be undecided.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now I've decided that the thought of being undecided terrifies me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With orientation being this week, I took the initiative of browsing through all 180 majors at Ball State and narrowing down my options. Taking the lead are International Business, Human Resource Management, and Pre-Law. I realize that this probably isn't the best approach in deciding a career, or the most practical, but I have this strong, underlying compulsion to figure out exactly where my life is going. I know I haven't made a definitive career decision, but I feel comfortable with these choices. These fields are all pretty similar and I think I probably belong in one of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I still want to chase tornadoes and stand in front of a green screen tracking cold fronts so God damn bad!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-2282918878124873811?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/2282918878124873811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/indecision.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2282918878124873811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/2282918878124873811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/indecision.html' title='[In]decision'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-6836902387466924794</id><published>2009-06-01T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T21:26:21.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old habits die hard</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Summer, I hope you aren't just leading me on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The following list describes why my summer has been sublime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Catch Phrase.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Warm, breezy weather conditions at dusk, hammocks, &lt;/span&gt;and&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt; F. Scott Fitzgerald books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Intense games of volleyball.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;- Also included in this entry: an unscheduled gathering of random friends which led&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;to "the most fun I've had all summer."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;- Also included in this entry: Katie's roid rage (which could also be placed under&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;Catch Phrase).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/SiSmZaPO8sI/AAAAAAAAAAw/H6HNx9vOSLU/s1600-h/n1164570354_30445267_1723019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/SiSmZaPO8sI/AAAAAAAAAAw/H6HNx9vOSLU/s320/n1164570354_30445267_1723019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342578013438407362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a really nice open house. It may sound strange, but reading all of my graduation cards shed a new light on my perspective towards college, family, and priorities. I cry every time I open the card my grandparents gave me; I'm starting to feel guilty about leaving in August. Oh, shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-6836902387466924794?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/6836902387466924794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/old-habits-die-hard.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/6836902387466924794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/6836902387466924794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/06/old-habits-die-hard.html' title='Old habits die hard'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/SiSmZaPO8sI/AAAAAAAAAAw/H6HNx9vOSLU/s72-c/n1164570354_30445267_1723019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-4916133088256933082</id><published>2009-05-21T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T09:05:25.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Surrealism</title><content type='html'>As the cliche goes, today is supposed to be one of the most important days of my life.&lt;div&gt;I hope it's not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Obviously, expectations about graduation day have been soaring through my mind for years now. This day has been built up to be some great symbol of change and denotes moving forward with life. It terrifies me that I don't have a clue what I want to major in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's strange to think I've been anticipating this day as long as I can remember . Symbolically, this represents the end of one era and the beginning of another. Realistically, I've been done with high school for a week now; this is just a formality. The sad thing about today is I'm not really excited about it. It seems as though I should be feeling some sort of elevated emotion right now. I'm not. Maybe as I'm marching to the tune of Pomp &amp;amp; Circumstance tears will be streaming down my face -- as previously expected. Maybe my apathy will continue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only surreal part of this whole ordeal was condensing four years of my life into a twelve minute slide show. It's just strange that the moments we capture on film (or digitally, rather) can manipulate our memories of high school. 214 pictures can't really do four years justice, but looking at that slide show I thought, "Yeah. That's pretty much it." It's like the moments that didn't get photographed were insignificant, which obviously isn't true. The fourth of July did not evolve my character. Watching 214 frames flash before my eyes and believing that those frames defined my high school career was surreal; graduation is not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm deleting my myspace today, not that i ever used it, as a symbolic gesture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truth is that nothing really changes until I move out on August 20.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-4916133088256933082?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/4916133088256933082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/05/surrealism.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/4916133088256933082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/4916133088256933082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/05/surrealism.html' title='Surrealism'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5088351328629795212.post-9168141865027415645</id><published>2009-05-17T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T07:15:24.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've learned in high school</title><content type='html'>I just want to give a shout out to my girl Karma. Suuuuup!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last year and a half has, at times, appeared dull and bleak-- not so much recently, thankfully. Recently, I've seen the catalysts behind these dreary times suffer. The universe is bestowing its revenge on those who deserve it. It makes me happy. That may sound cruel, but I feel assured (I'm not sure in what, but I do feel assured) when I witness karma running its course. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope one day you wake up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope one day you realize what you did wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I fear it may be too late.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moral of this rant: be courteous; be conscientious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, "karma's a bitch. aha"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5088351328629795212-9168141865027415645?l=bound-elegantly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/feeds/9168141865027415645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-ive-learned-in-high-school.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/9168141865027415645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5088351328629795212/posts/default/9168141865027415645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bound-elegantly.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-ive-learned-in-high-school.html' title='What I&apos;ve learned in high school'/><author><name>kace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14120795717255294509</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P7H8XaWAxNU/ShDUUpOjIII/AAAAAAAAAAM/Ih8mgf5jIqs/S220/n1164570138_30136848_632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
