<?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-8024851665844384644</id><updated>2012-02-15T10:40:58.029-07:00</updated><category term='cute'/><title type='text'>greenly chalked</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>537</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2261225514619745940</id><published>2012-02-08T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T13:39:46.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Culling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Elected Hobbies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Writing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Current:&amp;nbsp;Full-length one-person play for festival submission, working title: &lt;i&gt;Soliloquy of a Tragic Hero&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Concurrent: 10 minute play for festival submission, working title: &lt;i&gt;To Write a Love Poem&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Concurrent: Compilation of short stories using somewhat experimental writing, working title: &lt;i&gt;Wonted Gaits&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Upcoming: Full-length queer-themed play for playwright competition&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Autodidacting&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Languages&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Current: French amelioration&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Concurrent: Russian&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Concurrent: C/C++/C# amelioration&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Upcoming: Japanese&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Research&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Current: Science behind learning languages&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Upcoming: Adaptive processes which are &amp;nbsp;hoped to increase the effectiveness of standardized tests&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Arts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Upcoming: Ballroom &amp;amp; Tap amelioration&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Upcoming: Sewing &amp;amp; Fashion Design&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Programming&lt;/li&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Upcoming: Online game, working title: &lt;i&gt;Nash&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Granted, full-time, paying job comes first... you have to pay the bills somehow, eh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also first: health. &amp;nbsp;I have to figure out why I'm so frickin' tired literally all the time. &amp;nbsp;I'm thinking it's either my medication, my deviated septum causing sleep apnea, or a combination of the two. &amp;nbsp;Probably a combination of the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely need to eat more healthily and get more exercise now that I'm not dancing for a while (nowhere to practice ~sad face~).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2261225514619745940?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2261225514619745940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2261225514619745940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2261225514619745940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2261225514619745940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2012/02/culling.html' title='The Culling'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1422281947340283259</id><published>2012-01-30T14:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T14:37:08.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Plus A Frozen Lion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The other night I had one of those dreams that stuck out and sticks with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two -- mostly disjointed -- things stuck out most: a frozen, but thawing, lion and the deaths of my immediate family members.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I were to give meaning to my dream, thus would be my interpretations of the two symbols:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;My Family, Dead&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ultimately, this could be seen as my newly found independence with [GMB].  I am completely 'growed up' and no longer rely on the financial support of my family, and most of my emotional support now is fulfilled by [GMB].  Dreaming of my family members' deaths could signify my separation from needing them for my survival.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each sibling or parent died in a unique way which could perhaps be translated into how I viewed that relationship and in what way I relied on that family member.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It could also signify the death of the angst I've been having.  I used to have dreams where my family and I would fight about my choices in life.  This Christmas, however, my family went beyond my expectations and welcomed [GMB] and me in a way that we could only wish for.  My angst-y dreams have stopped since Christmas break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;A Frozen Yet Thawing Lion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A lion tends to symbolize the regal/kingly, and I have definitely been feeling like I need to really take command of my creative ideas, especially now that I'm financially responsible and stable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a plethora of ideas and passions.  Right now my, shall I say, kingdom of ideas has been rather unruly.  Recently, though, there's been a sense of a coming king, an order to the chaos.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am ready, I think, to finally organize my thoughts, figure out how to accomplish the ideas that would bring the most satisfaction and meaning to my creative identity and cull those lesser aspirations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1422281947340283259?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1422281947340283259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1422281947340283259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1422281947340283259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1422281947340283259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2012/01/more-plus-frozen-lion.html' title='More Plus A Frozen Lion'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-80570534371371925</id><published>2012-01-30T13:54:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T14:28:06.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News &amp; Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;Good News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[GMB] and I are engaged.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, we're "officially" engaged.  We're basically married, having committed to supporting each other through life.  We've waited on anything "official," though, until [GMB] was out to his family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This Christmas break, though, [GMB] courageously came out, and we officially got rings to symbolize our commitment to each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;Bad News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, hell, there's no bad news here.  I'm an extremely lucky guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never been so happy, healthy, productive, and stable in my life -- and a significant reason is [GMB].&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is an amazing support to me -- to put it mildly.  I hope that I am able to be one to him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-80570534371371925?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/80570534371371925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=80570534371371925' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/80570534371371925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/80570534371371925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2012/01/good-news-bad-news.html' title='Good News &amp; Bad News'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6984555108726984819</id><published>2011-11-04T02:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T03:04:54.157-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Contemporary Haiku</title><content type='html'>I've recently discovered contemporary haiku (&lt;a href="http://webdelsol.com/Perihelion/acmarticle.htm"&gt;definition here&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must say that it suits part of my style.  Minimalistic yet filled with significant meaning.  Compressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where I stray from the core of contemporary haiku (from what I've been able to learn of it) is my preference for poetic phrasing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the same time, though, I think aiming to conform to the common core is a good exercise for me in "showing not telling."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I look back at my writing (which I often feel is "over-designed") I think I'm seeing that the parts that feel too "heavy" are those where I'm telling more than showing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would post my favorites on my other blog, but I'm actually considering something I thought I'd never consider: trying to get published somewhere.  I think I would like to be able to write to a larger audience.  Not for any sort of monetary-seeking (I'm very comfortable right now) but because I hope to make this world a more artistic and creative place (as much as I am able, anyway).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6984555108726984819?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6984555108726984819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6984555108726984819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6984555108726984819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6984555108726984819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/11/contemporary-haiku.html' title='Contemporary Haiku'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7979749971124398293</id><published>2011-09-26T22:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T23:00:58.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Farkle Be Thy Name</title><content type='html'>Life back on my meds.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Much better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was also able to find a new job.  It's been a significantly awesomer fit (plus a 25% raise).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is good again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... or is it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7979749971124398293?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7979749971124398293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7979749971124398293' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7979749971124398293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7979749971124398293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/09/farkle-be-thy-name.html' title='Farkle Be Thy Name'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1582751303008754179</id><published>2011-08-03T01:59:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T15:08:16.254-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know Things Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I have a decent eclection [&lt;i&gt;sic&lt;/i&gt;] of talents, I have to accept that what I am actually able to accomplish is severely limited by my mental illness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a difficult thing to accept.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1582751303008754179?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1582751303008754179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1582751303008754179' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1582751303008754179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1582751303008754179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-know-things-now.html' title='I Know Things Now'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1200013316867894752</id><published>2011-07-21T21:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T22:48:06.249-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Next to Normal</title><content type='html'>I've been considering ECT.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My depression has been kicking my fesse and kicking my fesse and kicking my fesse throughout my entire life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Medication (both herbal and Rx) has only done so much.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cognitive therapy has only done so much.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Diet and exercise has [&lt;i&gt;sic&lt;/i&gt;] only done so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Combinations of all of the above have only done so much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's time I try something else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm tired of feeling... well... dead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1200013316867894752?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1200013316867894752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1200013316867894752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1200013316867894752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1200013316867894752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/07/next-to-normal.html' title='Next to Normal'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8281258371108228499</id><published>2011-07-13T02:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T03:49:06.239-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New York!</title><content type='html'>I pop my New York cherry in just a few hours.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being a theatre and Marvel geek, I was considering pushing [GMB] into getting us tickets to see &lt;i&gt;Spiderman: Turn off the Dark&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I know it's received poor reviews, I usually take such with a grain of salt.  My tastes are weird, and I tend to like things that most people don't really like.  Granted, there were some things that made me worry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of jumping to conclusions, I gave the show the benefit of the doubt and finally listened to some clips from the original cast recording... and my fears were confirmed, namely:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;BONO&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ew. Gross. No, please. Throw it away!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bono's music (to my ears, anyway) is emotionally monochromatic.  To play off of a contrasting, emotionally variegated show : "I Miss[ed] the Mountains."  (extra points to those who know the reference)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That said, I must say that I applaud the risk.  That, alone, is deserving my support (just not an immediate support, seeing as I'm presently out-of-a-job).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not many people are risk takers, a trait I'm starting to quite highly value.  I'm realizing that stagnation is, by large often [&lt;i&gt;sic&lt;/i&gt;], due to not taking a chance.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if &lt;i&gt;Spiderman, Turn off the Dark&lt;/i&gt;, is the beginning of some yet to be seen spectacular spectacularness in musical theatre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I, being a huge X-Men fan, am now considering that it just may be possible to see a fabu musical based on an otherwise musically-benign comic book series.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8281258371108228499?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8281258371108228499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8281258371108228499' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8281258371108228499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8281258371108228499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-york.html' title='New York!'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2269623311471330280</id><published>2011-07-08T15:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T16:45:22.953-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gay Friendly?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"[M]y wife is about as gay friendly as a straight woman could be... But she has her limits. [She's grossed out by gay sex.]"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://ifidotherightthing.blogspot.com/2011/06/gay-sex-ewww-factor.html?zx=880d8990729417e8"&gt;The Gay Sex 'Ewww' Factor&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;/i&gt; TwoLives&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone who is gay friendly &lt;i&gt;sincerely&lt;/i&gt; understands and accepts that two people of the same gender actually and truly can share the same bonds as two people of the opposite gender. Gay friendly people cannot be disgusted by homosexual sex any more than they can be disgusted by heterosexual sex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why would homosexual sex be more disgusting than heterosexual sex? I mean, think about the things generally involved in sex: the penis, the vagina, the anus, the mouth. I wouldn't want any one of those things, say, touching my food. Hell, I don't even want someone else's hand (also used in sex) touching my food!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, really, any kind of sex is icky... if we take out the concepts of pleasure, connection, love, and reproduction.  If we consider, however, the benefits, implications, and inferences of sex, then we have a completely different picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As an allegory, think about sitting down to eat with a friend.  Your friend says, "This [insert your favorite food, mine would be Thai curry] is delicious! Try it."  If you try it (and you probably would, I would assume) you will have swapped saliva in the process (even if you used different utensils).  EWWW!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sharing of the food isn't gross, but the exchange of saliva is gross (would you have poured even 1/4 of a teaspoon of just your friends saliva into you mouth?). The saliva swap, however, is &lt;i&gt;secondary&lt;/i&gt; to the sharing of food, making the entire idea of sharing the food, well, not-so-EWWW.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the same with sex. Touching those body parts, swapping those body fluids... EWWW!  That is, it would be disgusting if it were the primary concept of sex -- which it isn't.  The primary concepts of sex are connecting, pleasuring, loving, and reproducing, making the entire idea of sex, well, not-so-EWWW.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being grossed out by sex insinuates that such sex is merely playing with another person's (or other people's) gross parts without connection, without pleasure, without love, and/or without reproducing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being grossed out by gay sex (specifically more than you're grossed out by straight sex) is &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; gay friendly.  In fact, it's quite the opposite.  It's implying that gay sex lacks something that straight sex has (yes, I know it lacks the reproductive qualities, but think about it, nobody is going to say, "EWW! straight non-reproductive sex" when the grossed out one* is okay with reproductive sex).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I thought I'd try it out in real life, Jay... and I like it... a lot. **&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;**This is what happens when you make private members public.***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***Aka poor encapsulation****&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;****OOP reference&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2269623311471330280?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2269623311471330280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2269623311471330280' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2269623311471330280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2269623311471330280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/07/gay-friendly.html' title='Gay Friendly?'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-291890133372339275</id><published>2011-06-30T05:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T05:58:20.648-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Molting</title><content type='html'>My skin is itching (figuratively -- don't worry, I don't have any diseases... that I know of).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like it's time for me to slough off the growing tightness of my most recent experiences to prepare for the nexts [sic].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I felt this strongly about growing out of my skin, I ended up co-founding a dance academy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm uncertain what this freshness will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a little nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hungry... time for something greasy with cheese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-291890133372339275?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/291890133372339275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=291890133372339275' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/291890133372339275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/291890133372339275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/06/molting.html' title='Molting'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8641720103252982243</id><published>2011-06-15T14:42:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T15:13:31.583-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Touché, Life. Touché</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Just as I was feeling happy that my depression and anxiety didn't destroy my paying job as it has in the past, the company I worked for decides to downsize.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am once again unemployed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~sigh~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8641720103252982243?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8641720103252982243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8641720103252982243' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8641720103252982243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8641720103252982243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/06/touche-life-touche.html' title='Touché, Life. Touché'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2354478524840971022</id><published>2011-06-14T14:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T14:59:39.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Phew!</title><content type='html'>Well, I made it through my past few deep lows with my paying job intact!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First. Time. EVER.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I discovered something new about myself, too: I have social anxiety disorder.  I have a good control over it, for the most part, but I've been searching for a counselor who specializes in social phobia.  My current coping methods leave me absolutely exhausted after a while.  Like I said in a previous post, I'll do well for a while and then start to gradually break down until I retreat to a fortress of solitude to hibernate for at least six months.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I keep growing up, learning how to handle my crazies a little bit better every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to my next adventure! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~fanfare~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2354478524840971022?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2354478524840971022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2354478524840971022' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2354478524840971022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2354478524840971022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/06/phew.html' title='Phew!'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6348999861442469106</id><published>2011-05-04T14:42:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T16:36:40.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Help Meet</title><content type='html'>These past few weeks have proven to me the worth of a significant other.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ordinarily by now I'd have broken down completely and retreated to curl up in a dark corner to sleep for 6 months.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With [GMB]'s support, however, I've been able to fight for my ability to maintain a full-time job (it's an insanely tough battle with my depression and anxiety).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My parents are fantastic and offer as much support as they are able.  With ten other kids and each other, though, it leaves them at a disadvantage to being able to completely support me in the way my disability needs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The same is with my best friend and my other siblings.  They can only offer so much support before it cuts into their time and energy for their higher priorities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think I could aptly explain how much having someone dedicated to me (and I to him) has enhanced and continues to enhance my ability to live a happy, healthy, and productive life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suffice it to say that I am feeling less disabled because of [GMB].&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you, [GMB].  Your love and support are amazing.  You are amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(... okay, corniness is over...)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6348999861442469106?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6348999861442469106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6348999861442469106' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6348999861442469106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6348999861442469106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/05/help-meet.html' title='A Help Meet'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-430580065031965453</id><published>2011-04-26T15:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T15:39:59.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Down</title><content type='html'>My mental health has been crap lately.  Social interactions are becoming more and more difficult for me.  My body just wants to sleep all of the time.  My mind just wants to give up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This seems to be the pattern for me.  I do well for a few months, I take the time to ground myself whenever something triggers depressive or anxious thoughts, and then after a while it becomes more difficult to spend that energy to ground myself.  I start to wear down until I just start to shut down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I look back, this has been the pattern for most, if not all, of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank God for my boyfriend, [GMB].  He's the best thing in my life right now, and just the thought of his addictive smile helps push me to find the energy to make it through another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-430580065031965453?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/430580065031965453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=430580065031965453' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/430580065031965453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/430580065031965453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/04/breaking-down.html' title='Breaking Down'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3569347341895927103</id><published>2011-04-21T02:02:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T02:32:35.445-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of the Parentals</title><content type='html'>My parents get back from their mission in less than a week.  I'm both excited and anxious.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's taking a toll on my mental health -- which it shouldn't.  I don't want any drama, and I think I'm fearing the worst.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure, though, things will be just fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3569347341895927103?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3569347341895927103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3569347341895927103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3569347341895927103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3569347341895927103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/04/return-of-parentals.html' title='The Return of the Parentals'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4603706483324086625</id><published>2011-04-15T00:41:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T01:23:34.520-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess Monkey Kitten Pretty Lips LOVE!</title><content type='html'>Although I have an Poppins-purse-load of copywriting I need to do to better advertise what Pankratz Academy of Dance is all about, the bottom line is this: When you support the Academy you help low-income families afford professional dance education and performance opportunities.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/03/why-i-do-it.html"&gt;The results so far have been amazing&lt;/a&gt; (and that's really just barely scratching the surface of what the Academy's been able to do so far). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Presently I am producing an innovative dance production (using ballroom, tap, and classical ballet) titled &lt;i&gt;[Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet] &lt;/i&gt;and need to raise at least $2,000 beyond what I'm able to finance to get it to where it needs to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please donate (even if it's just $2!) to help provide this opportunity to students of all financial backgrounds (the link is at the bottom of this post).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please send the donation link to anyones you may think would be interested and willing (again, even if they can only donate $2!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All donations are tax deductible (keep your PayPal receipt for your records).  The show will also be filmed and made available for free online so you'll be able to enjoy it personally!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;form action="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr" method="post"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" name="cmd" value="_s-xclick"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input type="hidden" name="hosted_button_id" value="8VWH76L6B7JVQ"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input type="image" src="https://www.paypalobjects.com/WEBSCR-640-20110401-1/en_US/i/btn/btn_donateCC_LG.gif" border="0" name="submit" alt="PayPal - The safer, easier way to pay online!"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="https://www.paypalobjects.com/WEBSCR-640-20110401-1/en_US/i/scr/pixel.gif" width="1" height="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4603706483324086625?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4603706483324086625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4603706483324086625' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4603706483324086625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4603706483324086625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/04/princess-monkey-kitten-pretty-lips-love.html' title='Princess Monkey Kitten Pretty Lips LOVE!'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4318384748657564564</id><published>2011-04-04T22:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T23:20:36.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inadequate</title><content type='html'>My greatest weakness in this public charity business is fundraising... which, in the public charity business, is a &lt;i&gt;big&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b style="font-style: italic; "&gt; &lt;/b&gt;problem.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been watching &lt;i&gt;Celebrity Apprentice&lt;/i&gt;, and they raise hundreds of thousands of dollars in a blink of an eye, and I don't even know how to start to raise $2000 to produce a show to showcase my ballroom and tap students.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hell, I don't even know where to start in order to raise just $200.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what to say to get others as excited as the dancers and I are.  I don't know what to say to adequately explain what kind of an opportunity this will be to the dancers -- and how this show is a significant cog in meeting the specific needs of Tooele City's youth (see &lt;a href="http://www.tooelecity.org/citydepartments/communitiesthatcare.asp"&gt;http://www.tooelecity.org/citydepartments/communitiesthatcare.asp&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://aep-arts.org/files/publications/ChampsReport.pdf"&gt;http://aep-arts.org/files/publications/ChampsReport.pdf&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~sigh~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel so... [see subject of post]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4318384748657564564?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4318384748657564564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4318384748657564564' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4318384748657564564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4318384748657564564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/04/inadequate.html' title='Inadequate'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7115901595464923134</id><published>2011-03-10T23:51:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T00:09:29.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Utopia</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder if a utopia could really be built.  We all seem to have such different ideals that I don't know if one place could exist where everyone would be truly happy, healthy, and productive.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take, for example, the concept of productivity.  When I was just focusing on the dance academy, I was told by many that I wasn't being productive -- because I couldn't fully take care of all of my financial needs.  But I had never felt more productive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy and healthy each have their own skews as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To be honest, this is where the LDS concept of different degrees of heaven makes sense to me.  The LDS idea of heaven is that all mankind is glorified (well except those who explicitly refuse and explicitly know God's grace) but also segregated into compartmentalized utopias that best fit with their ideals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Granted, such would be my take of the LDS doctrines... it may not be the official stance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7115901595464923134?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7115901595464923134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7115901595464923134' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7115901595464923134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7115901595464923134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/03/utopia.html' title='Utopia'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7471976431721746895</id><published>2011-03-04T13:48:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T15:34:43.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Do It</title><content type='html'>I was joking around with my dance students, saying that I was a millionaire.  One of the students said, "If you were a millionaire, you wouldn't be here," to which I promptly replied:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Even if I had a billion dollars, I would still be here.  We'd just have a more fabulous studio."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not in this to make any money.  My other job as a programmer keeps me comfortable enough.  I set up this dance academy (and volunteer a significant amount of my time, energy, and effort) to create opportunities for youth that they ordinarily couldn't have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fifteen percent of the student body is on scholarship due to financial hardships in their families.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boys -- &lt;i&gt;BOYS&lt;/i&gt; -- are feeling not only comfortable but proud dancing.  This alone almost brings me to tears when I think about it.  When I was younger, after I had watched the ballet, &lt;i&gt;Billy the Kid&lt;/i&gt;, during a school field trip, I wanted to learn how to dance but was too scared by the stigma, too poor to afford anything, and (even if I were more courageous and had the money) there simply weren't any studios that really taught boys where I grew up, where I'm building up the Academy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because of my previous skills working with people who have disabilities, I've been able to open up my classes to students with special needs (such as students who have been diagnosed with autism and learning disabilities).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is why I do this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7471976431721746895?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7471976431721746895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7471976431721746895' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7471976431721746895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7471976431721746895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/03/why-i-do-it.html' title='Why I Do It'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5200528154663042063</id><published>2011-02-13T22:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T22:51:09.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purpose of Life</title><content type='html'>I think I would say that I believe that the purpose of life is to build a utopia wherein all are joyful and prosperous.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I struggle with my specific spiritual beliefs, I don't know if I believe that this utopia is something that we (who vanish, so to speak, upon death) are trying to build for future generations or if this utopia is something that we (who live beyond the grave) will partake of for eternity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot see, however, how the self-governance of one's life should differ whether we are building for a future generation, perhaps never to experience the ideal world ourselves, or if we will find ourselves in state of joy and prosperity forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5200528154663042063?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5200528154663042063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5200528154663042063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5200528154663042063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5200528154663042063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/02/purpose-of-life.html' title='The Purpose of Life'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8675546677769522309</id><published>2011-01-30T20:03:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T22:06:59.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginnings With God</title><content type='html'>It's difficult for me to approach the subject of God these days.  In a way, I feel like I've needed to start over with everything God-related.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm back to asking myself, "Is there a God?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More importantly I wonder, "Should I care even if there is a God?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, convincing me of the existence of something is one thing, convincing me that I should worry or care about its existence is a vastly different conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8675546677769522309?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8675546677769522309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8675546677769522309' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8675546677769522309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8675546677769522309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/01/beginnings-with-god.html' title='Beginnings With God'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5317038138036440456</id><published>2011-01-11T23:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T23:50:40.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Can't Hide It</title><content type='html'>I wish I could blog more.  I have some thoughts that I'd like to get out in binary.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hélas, I have been well busy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in that business is some great news: The Academy has received its first grant!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will be able to produce a dance performance I've been mulling over for a while.  It's a-gunna be fabulous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our upcoming production of &lt;i&gt;Cinderella&lt;/i&gt; is going to be fabulous as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will post the performance dates so you all can come and enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so excited.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5317038138036440456?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5317038138036440456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5317038138036440456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5317038138036440456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5317038138036440456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-just-cant-hide-it.html' title='I Just Can&apos;t Hide It'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3589016828011682663</id><published>2011-01-01T21:34:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T22:26:49.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2010: The Year I Growed Up</title><content type='html'>You know, I really wasn't expecting much out of 2010. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I really hoped for was a good year with the dance academy and to apply for its 501(c)(3) status.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I got was a pretty good year with the dance academy, a great boyfriend, a job that actually pays me a salary, my very first place all of my own, the 501(c)(3) application sent in, and the IRS determination letter hardly a month later.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a way, I guess you could say that I finally grew up.  I mean, I bought my first table, dinnerware, silverware, and set of pots and pans... that's a pretty big step for me (considering my major Peter Pan complex).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not to say, of course, that everything went extremely smoothly.  The Academy, itself, is like 3 full-time jobs for me.  Adding another full-time job on top of that really shook things up for my sanity (what very little I had left).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My relationship with my boyfriend has had its ups and downs... as is to be expected, especially with my strained mental health.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All-in-all, though, it was a pretty fabulous year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm tempted to set the bar for 2011 pretty high, but I may just aim low and be presently surprised again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3589016828011682663?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3589016828011682663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3589016828011682663' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3589016828011682663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3589016828011682663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2011/01/2010-year-i-growed-up.html' title='2010: The Year I Growed Up'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7461838975789996409</id><published>2010-12-02T18:16:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T18:31:54.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WelLong Story</title><content type='html'>To make a long-ish story short, [GMB] and I had basically a two day talk. I think we understand each other a lot better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we decided to call off the break-up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know; it seems fickle. I claim temporary insanity, what with the drastically changed sleeping schedule and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[GMB] is a saint for putting up with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7461838975789996409?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7461838975789996409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7461838975789996409' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7461838975789996409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7461838975789996409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/12/wellong-story.html' title='WelLong Story'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5749914453241684104</id><published>2010-11-23T18:23:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T18:32:20.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Disorder?</title><content type='html'>My friend sent me a link to the following site: &lt;a href="http://www.attachmenttherapy.com/adult.htm"&gt;http://www.attachmenttherapy.com/adult.htm&lt;/a&gt;.  I'm afraid I may have another disorder along with my clinical depression and anxiety to deal with.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking I tend toward the "Anxious/Ambivalent" category of attachment disorder:&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 New Roman'; font-size: medium; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;ANXIOUS/AMBIVILENT&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Compulsive Caregiving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Feel overinvolved and underappreciated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Rapid relationship breakups&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Idealizing of others&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Strong desire for partner to reciprocate in relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Overinvests his/her emotions in a relationship&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Perceives relationships as imbalanced&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Relationship is idealized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Views partner as desirable but unpredictable (sometimes available, sometimes not)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Perceives others as difficult to understand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Unlikely to view others as altruistic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Discomfort with anger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Extreme emotions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Views self as unlovable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Mood swings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;&lt;span&gt;Tendency toward anaclitic depression (dependent depression)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does make sense.  I very strongly remember times in my youth when I needed my parents but they were busy taking care of the needs of my other million siblings.  Hell, read through my blog the past few months, and you'll see examples of how what I need from my parents aren't met because of their religious beliefs.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not "blaming the parents."  I am recognizing, though, where my problem lies so I can resolve things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thankfully, I have an appointment with my counselor in the not too distant future to discuss things with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5749914453241684104?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5749914453241684104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5749914453241684104' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5749914453241684104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5749914453241684104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/11/more-disorder.html' title='More Disorder?'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8968655269109809293</id><published>2010-11-23T16:53:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T16:57:43.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oversimplified</title><content type='html'>The reason I posted for the break-up is rather oversimplified.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still think there's a lot of misunderstanding on both of our sides.  We're trying to sort things out, at the very least to minimize the hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8968655269109809293?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8968655269109809293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8968655269109809293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8968655269109809293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8968655269109809293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/11/oversimplified.html' title='Oversimplified'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7129859309303781138</id><published>2010-11-23T09:49:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T10:40:16.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News &amp; Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Good News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was able to make my extremely difficult decision.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Bad News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[GMB] and I are no more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He wanted to work us around his dream school and dream career.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want a relationship that is top priority, working such things as school and career around the relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I unfortunately had to say adieu to "us."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7129859309303781138?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7129859309303781138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7129859309303781138' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7129859309303781138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7129859309303781138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/11/good-news-bad-news.html' title='Good News &amp; Bad News'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6561089606030341871</id><published>2010-11-17T21:19:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T21:26:46.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>I am exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mentally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spiritually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm being faced with a horribly difficult decision right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please throw some magic powder my way if you have any.  I could use it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6561089606030341871?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6561089606030341871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6561089606030341871' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6561089606030341871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6561089606030341871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/11/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7197703676151026823</id><published>2010-11-04T23:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T23:14:30.541-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightmares</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I’ve been having rather intense nightmares lately—nightmares where my parents and I are screaming at each other.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I obviously have a lot of pent up frustration and anxieties about my relationship with them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m having a difficult time truly feeling loved by them, at least in the way they say.&amp;#160; Their love for me feels so… cheap sometimes. I don’t feel like I belong to them anymore, like I’m their son.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I feel pushed away and abandoned.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I feel like closing the door and walking away.&amp;#160; With my newfound financial independency I’m having to really fight against that temptation.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7197703676151026823?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7197703676151026823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7197703676151026823' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7197703676151026823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7197703676151026823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/11/nightmares.html' title='Nightmares'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7446481693587868545</id><published>2010-11-01T23:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T23:43:23.138-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Enter:Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I am now officially employed by a company that can pay me a regular salary!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m both excited and terrified—for the same reason: it feels like life-life is beginning.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;That is to say that I feel a stronger sense of responsibility for my future now.&amp;#160; Before it was just, “Let’s make it to the next crappy day.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now, however, it feels like I finally have a future to start preparing for.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Before it was, “Meh, I have the money in my account, and it’s shiny; I’ll buy it!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now it’s, “Hmm… I don’t know, I should probably put that money away for something more important.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It’s an interesting feeling, both thrilling and terrifying, both enhungering [&lt;em&gt;sic&lt;/em&gt;] and nauseating.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It’s a new experience that I hope I’m ready to take on.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7446481693587868545?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7446481693587868545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7446481693587868545' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7446481693587868545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7446481693587868545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/11/enterlife.html' title='Enter:Life'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5368663255958760384</id><published>2010-10-25T22:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:14:21.872-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome All Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;If all goes well, I’ll have a steadily paying job as a software engineer.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="justify"&gt;It will be interesting juggling this job with the dance academy, but seeing as there’s a potential family start-up in my life, I need to lessen financial risks and fortify my financial stability. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="justify"&gt;I hope that the Academy won’t suffer. I teach in the afternoons, so I’m rather confident it won’t.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="justify"&gt;Anyway, good vibes my way would be appreciated. I both really need and really want this job.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5368663255958760384?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5368663255958760384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5368663255958760384' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5368663255958760384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5368663255958760384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/welcome-all-again.html' title='Welcome All Again'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-417911002502522978</id><published>2010-10-18T22:13:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T00:30:00.943-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Admissions x 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-variant: small-caps; "&gt;i&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;m not especially convinced of primarily man-made global warming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TL0gl2U_-uI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lB_rE1EqLQU/s200/global+warning.gif" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 117px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529611752091679458" /&gt;The correlation between the sun's cycle and Earth's temperature is strikingly convincing to me that the primary cause of global warming is the sun.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Don't get me wrong, though.  I believe, 100%, that we are crapping up the protection we have from the sun.  I am &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt; for taking care of and improving the environment.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I'm just not convinced we are the primary cause of global warming. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-variant: small-caps; "&gt;i worry about the taste differences between &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;gmb&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;]&lt;/span&gt; and me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TL0tBigJf1I/AAAAAAAAAIs/h2loKo47Uqw/s1600/sculpture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TL0tBigJf1I/AAAAAAAAAIs/h2loKo47Uqw/s200/sculpture.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529625421945601874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I love, love, love the sculpture on the right.  &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;[GMB] pretty much hates it. His style is much more modern than mine.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;He's also pro gay rainbow.  I personally think it looks tacky and cheap. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;That said, my worry is quite insignificant.  I'm pretty sure we'd be able to find common ground were we ever to find ourselves decorating a house together.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;For example, I think we'd agree on most things in the kitchen pictured below:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TL04rAJDc6I/AAAAAAAAAJE/0fk1G1jLinY/s1600/august_livingkitchen_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TL04rAJDc6I/AAAAAAAAAJE/0fk1G1jLinY/s320/august_livingkitchen_lg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529638228904342434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-417911002502522978?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/417911002502522978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=417911002502522978' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/417911002502522978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/417911002502522978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/random-admissions-x-2.html' title='Random Admissions x 2'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TL0gl2U_-uI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lB_rE1EqLQU/s72-c/global+warning.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6774188324228967874</id><published>2010-10-12T21:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T22:16:48.114-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Ten Thousand</title><content type='html'>Today is my 10,000th day on Earth.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... maybe that's why I'm so blastedly exhausted all the time...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6774188324228967874?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6774188324228967874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6774188324228967874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6774188324228967874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6774188324228967874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/day-ten-thousand.html' title='Day Ten Thousand'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5323425422498184179</id><published>2010-10-09T03:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T03:55:37.995-06:00</updated><title type='text'>(500) Posts on Blogger</title><content type='html'>Well, this is actually my 503rd post... on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;greenly chalked&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had two [main] blogs before this one.  The first was a blog titled something like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;LDS Eunuch&lt;/span&gt;.  I started out as a hopeful celibate gay Mormon.  Things, I thought were going fantastically... but the life that I had envisioned, the life that the Mormon leaders promised just wasn't the life that I was seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to understand how I could find a happy life as a gay Mormon (which direction I could go if not the one I was sincerely taking, the path dictated by the leader), I tore down &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;LDS Eunuch&lt;/span&gt; and started to write under the blog, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chedner 101&lt;/span&gt;.  Things progressed to the angry and bitter phase.  By the end of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chedner 101&lt;/span&gt;, I was feeling quite finished with the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only did I feel like there was no room in the church for gays of any kind (except those who were hoping to become straight), I felt like nobody really wanted there to be room.  I gave up, walked away, and started from scratch... which is where &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;greenly chalked&lt;/span&gt; began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I've really had a purpose or theme to this blog.  I've mostly just thrown my random thoughts out there.  Perhaps I could say that it reflects my search for a purpose in my life; however, the latter search has been much less haphazard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been extremely mindful of the choices I make.  Each step is carefully analyzed to make sure they are not detrimental but are beneficial not just to me but to those with whom I share this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I'm definitely still a "work in progress" (who isn't?), I can honestly say that I am pleased with who I am and with who I am becoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my life, my purpose, is finally becoming what I had always envisioned (if not slightly 'physically' different--but the 'spirit' of my hopes and dreams are finally coming to fruition).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5323425422498184179?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5323425422498184179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5323425422498184179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5323425422498184179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5323425422498184179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/500-posts-on-blogger.html' title='(500) Posts on Blogger'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1578909775960755127</id><published>2010-10-08T01:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T01:52:18.585-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Merci à tous</title><content type='html'>Thanks everyone for your comments and emails (a few to which I still need to reply).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is helpful to know that one isn't completely one's own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sent a revision, following the advice of removing the dramatic ending, of my last posted letter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My parents haven't responded yet.  I am extremely anxious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I honestly don't know how I can be a member of my family as things are.  Not being good enough for them is too damaging to my mental health.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... maybe I can learn to be okay being sub-par in their eyes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1578909775960755127?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1578909775960755127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1578909775960755127' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1578909775960755127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1578909775960755127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/merci-tous.html' title='Merci à tous'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6784050788921915370</id><published>2010-10-05T00:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T00:28:54.457-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's just...</title><content type='html'>... so unbelievably painful knowing that my happiness, the best life I can live isn't good enough for 99.99324222% of the people who are the most important to me, that my life makes them uncomfortable.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know if I have the energy for this anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6784050788921915370?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6784050788921915370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6784050788921915370' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6784050788921915370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6784050788921915370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-just.html' title='It&apos;s just...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2882550153829273626</id><published>2010-10-04T19:11:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T19:41:52.877-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mom &amp; Dad, (revision 1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I have mentioned before, I am completely at peace with God. I know what I am doing is what I should and need be doing, not just for my temporal but also my eternal joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I know that I am doing my best.  If I make a mistake, then I'll learn from that mistake and move on. However, dating [GMB] has been quite the opposite of a mistake. He is one of the best things to happen in my life. He inspires me to be the best person I can be. He fills my heart with gratitude and love for life. He is a comfort and peace to me.  I have felt absolutely no guilt or shame but the exact opposite in my relationship with him.  The fruits of our relationship have been &lt;i&gt;nothing but good.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I really am just doing my best, and I wish you could honestly see that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I love you, I want to please you, and it hurts deeply to know that my best is not good enough for you.  It's a pain that I simply cannot continuously bear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I hope you will, at the very least, watch this clip from a movie based on a true story and sincerely listen to the final monologue: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHV9h7Lgvn8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHV9h7Lgvn8&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... because such are the fruits of your words and actions; such is what your words are actions are doing to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Andrew Martin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2882550153829273626?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2882550153829273626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2882550153829273626' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2882550153829273626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2882550153829273626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/dear-mom-dad_04.html' title='Dear Mom &amp; Dad, (revision 1)'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5588085261173100064</id><published>2010-10-04T06:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T07:01:47.707-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mom &amp; Dad,</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;[This is a proposed letter in response to my parents telling me, in a nutshell, that they cannot support me--because it "is a moral issue," based on "eternal principles." Your critiques are much appreciated; I do not want to make the situation worse.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; "&gt;This is, indeed, a moral issue.  For both me and you.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I have mentioned before, I am completely at peace with God.  I know what I am doing is what I should and need be doing, not just for my temporal but also my eternal joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must and will live according to my own testimony.  I must and will do what I believe is right and good.  If I make a mistake, then I'll learn from that mistake and move on.  However, dating [GMB] has been quite the opposite of a mistake.  He is one of the best things to happen in my life.  He inspires me to be the best person I can be.  He fills my heart with gratitude and love for life.  I have felt absolutely no guilt or shame but the exact opposite in my relationship with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The moral dilemma is no longer mine but yours as you decide whether or not you truly cannot support me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Supporting me would not change and need not challenge your beliefs about eternal principles.  You do not have to believe that I will make it to the Celestial Kingdom with my family.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Supporting me would mean that you support my choice to live according to my own testimony.  Supporting me would mean truly seeing and loving me for who I am, letting the fruits of my life speak for themselves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Supporting me would simply mean that you accept that I am merely doing my best in life.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I &lt;i&gt;am &lt;/i&gt;merely doing my best in life.  I really am, and I wish you could honestly see that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you, I want to please you, and if my best is not good enough for you, then I will never be able to truly please you.  It's for this reason--you not being able to see that I am sincerely doing my best--that I would have to separate myself from the family.  I can't subject myself to such emotional abuse.  It's not healthy for any of us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But separation would ultimately be your choice and not mine.  My choice is to live the happiest, healthiest, most productive and honest life I possibly can.  Your choice is to accept my best or not.  If you cannot accept my best, if I am unable to please you, then I quite literally (if I truly am seeking out the happiest, healthiest, most productive and honest life I possibly can) have no other decision than to leave the family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do hope you can support me.  I hope you can accept my best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Andrew Martin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5588085261173100064?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5588085261173100064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5588085261173100064' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5588085261173100064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5588085261173100064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/dear-mom-dad.html' title='Dear Mom &amp; Dad,'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3078261309938635745</id><published>2010-10-02T06:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T06:00:03.678-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Organic Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have to recognize that human flourishing is not a mechanical process.  It's an organic process.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;~Sir Ken Robinson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;Humans are not robots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;The End&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3078261309938635745?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3078261309938635745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3078261309938635745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3078261309938635745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3078261309938635745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/organic-life.html' title='An Organic Life'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8741496849820631873</id><published>2010-10-02T05:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T05:47:29.802-06:00</updated><title type='text'>True Love &amp; Compassion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;That I hurt&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Would you hurt, too&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Be it a prick&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or a wound that flows&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Nile&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Would you wade with me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Through sorrow’s falls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Yet sail with me its gulfs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or would you drink, instead,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The salted grief&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;That flows from me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;As hurt&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;True love and compassion is more than just feeling sad when another person feels sad or feeling happy because another person feels happy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;True love and compassion is more than understanding why another person feels happy or sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;True love and compassion is feeling sad for the exact same reasons another person feels sad; it is feeling happy for the exact same reasons another person feels happy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is &lt;i&gt;sharing&lt;/i&gt; the emotions of the other person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The opposite is taking another person's emotion and trying to make it your own, e.g.:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"You're happy because I made you happy."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Your sorrow is making my life difficult."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Your sorrow is my joy."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Your joy is my sorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my experience, the last is the most difficult to bear as it takes a certain kind of haughtiness, one which feels especially cold and hollow, to pity someone else's joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;That I joy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Would you joy, too&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Be it a grin&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or a love that breaths&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Sky&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Would you drift with me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Through mirth-y sighs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Yet fly with me its lofts&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or would you choke, instead,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The sweetened bliss&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;That breaths from me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;As joy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8741496849820631873?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8741496849820631873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8741496849820631873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8741496849820631873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8741496849820631873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/10/true-love-compassion.html' title='True Love &amp; Compassion'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1012372716773171684</id><published>2010-09-26T20:34:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T21:16:57.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Grammar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When it comes to grammar, I'm a conservative revolutionary.  That is to say, I prefer to keep rules as they are unless they don't make logical sense, in which cases the rules need be reformed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm wondering if I'm egotistical enough to write a guide for my version of English grammar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I just may be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1012372716773171684?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1012372716773171684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1012372716773171684' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1012372716773171684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1012372716773171684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/grammar.html' title='Grammar'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-9016924420162828078</id><published>2010-09-21T15:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T15:53:53.129-06:00</updated><title type='text'>[Working Title] - Chapter 1, Part 2 of 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/working-title-chapter-1-part-1-of-3.html"&gt;Part 1 Here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(I'm not in love with this section; I want to do some rehashing--which is one of the reasons why I've decided to share.  By starting to actually share my writings, I hope to feel a stronger sense of responsibility to finish and polish my works.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;part 2 of 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maurette gasped as Chaz crumpled to the ground. She looked to the Reissod with fear and uncertainty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was Illing,” the King’s servant explained nonchalantly as he wiped his blade on his bright cape, “and you... well, you will come with me. We will find your sons – twins?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maurette was too stunned to answer. She had never heard of any illness, and she feared she, too, was infected. Worse, though, she feared her sons were also sick, alone, and abandoned by their crazed father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They were twin boys, where they not?” the old man repeated almost impatiently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” Maurette stammered, “... they must be Illing, too... deformed... I, am I sick?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The disease only infects grown men, an unfortunate side effect of Chiding,” the Reissod spoke uncaring-ly as he helped Maurrette to her feet and guided her outside. “Did you see where your husband disposed of your boys?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunlight caressed Jaiden’s anaemic face as he lifelessly stared out of the large window in front of him. His heavy breaths fogged the glass. He rocked gently, tapping his forehead against the thick pane; his reflection thereon only slightly blurred the coldness in his dark eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nyxia, fighting back concerned tears, sat next to her husband and lovingly stroked his thin, pale neck. Their son, Tristan, was not phased. During the short three years of his life, this was the only way he knew his father: a skeleton of a man, alive physically but seemingly dead inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Then we went to the park, and I played on the swings!” Tristan excitedly told Jaiden of his day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the two together was especially difficult for Nyxia. Jaiden’s collapse into his conscious coma happened the same day they welcomed Tristan into their family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I had cotton candy ice cream,” Tristan’s golden-flecked eyes shimmered with excitement, “and mommy pretended to eat hers like a monster. It got all over her face!” He giggled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nyxia smiled. Although she cherished Tristan’s coy giggle, she sometimes wished he would have inherited Jaiden’s boisterous laugh. She missed that laugh dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A stocky orderly knocked on the door, “It’s time.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan hopped down from his mother’s lap, kissed his desolate father on the cheek and glowingly whispered, “Bye, papa. I love you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nyxia softly kissed Jaiden’s neck, took Tristan’s hand, and solemnly left Jaiden’s room in the asylum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maurette didn’t speak as she and the Reissod walked toward the Souteastern Mines where Chaz would spend his days. She had known the dimness of the corridors all of her life, but everything seemed especially dark as they searched for any signs of her children.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Reissod’s long, slender strides made it difficult for Maurette to keep up. She was as tall and lanky as he; however, she was extremely malnourished and hadn’t much energy. Maurette’s stomach groaned and knotted. She keeled over, reaching for the rough wall of the corridor to break her fall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Ressoid pulled a piece of dried meat from a ruby-adorned pouch hanging from his hip and offered the food to Maurette. She shook her head defiantly, stood, and began walking as quickly as she could.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Suit yourself,” the King’s Reissod said emotionlessly as he returned the meat to his pouch, “But don’t expect me to carry you if you are too weak to walk.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Maurette was growing more and more feeble, but she refused to eat. Years ago she had vowed to eat only when absolutely necessary. She knew she could make it at least one more hour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; She tried to keep her mind off of her starvation by fantasizing about her son’s importance to the King. Perhaps, she hoped, her son would end the necessity of Tshawings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Her stomach lurched even more nauseously. Tshawings. Children ordained to be eaten. Maurette knew one must eat to survive, and she knew the only known food was the Tshawings. She had never thought twice about it until after her womb was set apart for the production of nourishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“This is daddy building me a tree fort when he gets better,” Tristan nibbled on a cookie as he colored.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Nyxia had tried explaining to Tristan that his father’s situation probably wouldn’t improve. Tristan, however, insisted that his dad would soon “be all better so that we can all play together.” Instead of trying to remind him once again, she smiled at Tristan and then went back to arranging the flowers they had picked during their walk home from the asylum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first, Maurette felt honored as she was blessed by His Holiness, the King, to be a Tshawer, a bearer of sustenance. It was the night she and Chaz were married. She stood with the other Tshawers, all dressed in their pale grey leather gowns, as the King presented each with her unique emblem. The Tschawers would need to burn their emblems into the swaddling leathers of their Tschawings. To prepare, each woman would practice burning her emblem into scraps of leather during the three-day Chiding, the process to prepare the spouses’ loins for Tschawing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maurette found her markings particularly odd. Most emblems were straight lines, a triangle with diamonds touching tangent to each side, for example. Her emblem, on the other hand, held no straight lines. In the center was a circle. From the circle’s circumference grew many long half ovals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tristan hopped up on Jaiden’s bed and gave his father a big kiss on the cheek. “I drew this picture for you. And mommy and I picked these flowers for your room.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Nyxia placed a glass vase filled with daisies on Jaiden’s night stand. The clear water sparkled in the sunlight coming in from the room’s large window. Everything shone and warmed in the day’s brightness, contrasting Jaiden’s cold and darkly fogged glaze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few days after Chaz returned from his Chiding, Maurette was pregnant with her first Tschawing. She swelled with honor. When the infant was born, however, that honor melted to uncertainty. Soon, uncertainty wilted to guilt and guilt to shame. She realized that she loved the being that had grown inside of her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; She thought she was going crazy. Tschawings were meant to be eaten, not loved. Nevertheless, her heart broke as the collector took her first born away. Ever since she only ate the minimum to survive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-9016924420162828078?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/9016924420162828078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=9016924420162828078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/9016924420162828078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/9016924420162828078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/working-title-chapter-1-part-2-of-3.html' title='[Working Title] - Chapter 1, Part 2 of 3'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2088111916256627017</id><published>2010-09-15T16:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T20:45:51.779-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News &amp; Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;Good News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Greek Tragedy was prevented.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;Bad News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://agaymormonboy.blogspot.com/"&gt;He&lt;/a&gt;'s stuck with me for longer than he thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GMB and I sat down to talk last night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It turns out we were sharing the same misconception.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was hurting because I was considering leaving Utah were things to keep going well between us, but I didn't see him even considering staying.  It seemed to me that I was more invested in the relationship than he.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was hurting because he was considering staying in Utah were things to keep going well between us, but he didn't see me even considering leaving.  It seemed to him that he was more invested in the relationship than I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wasn't until just last night that we both realized/revealed that we were/are both willing to discuss any option if and when the time presents itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To avoid sounding all sappy and corny, suffice it to say that I am very pleased that the misconception was cleared up before it was too late to do anything about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That would have been a tragedy, indeed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2088111916256627017?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2088111916256627017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2088111916256627017' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2088111916256627017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2088111916256627017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/good-news-bad-news_15.html' title='Good News &amp; Bad News'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1958844429104003099</id><published>2010-09-05T06:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T06:40:47.685-06:00</updated><title type='text'>[Working Title] - Chapter 1, Part 1 of 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(This is part of a short novel I sometimes work on when I can't sleep. I have no intentions of trying to get published nor do I have delusions of being a great writer. I just write to entertain myself. Hopefully at least one of you will be entertained as well.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;part 1 of 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That can’t be human,” Jaiden whispered.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I ate one just like it yesterday,” Nyxia whispered back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Jaiden’s eyes grew in disgust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “It didn’t taste human. I wouldn’t recommend it.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Jaiden’s eyes widened further. “You ate the whole thing?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Nyxia burped nauseously, “I shouldn’t have...”&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Where are they?!” Chaz’s thick hands wound around his wife’s neck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I gave them to you...” his wife stammered, “... you said they couldn’t have been yours... you threw them out...”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Chaz’s violet eyes stuttered and searched the empty room. He hissed, “I would have remembered.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I didn’t... you...”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I would have remembered!” Rusty bile pooled in the corners of Chaz’s mouth. He tightened his grip and lifted the woman off of the floor. “Where have you hidden them?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Hanging in Chaz’s anger, the woman’s gaunt body shuttered limply in supplication to be released.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Don’t be a martyr, Maurette. I know you’ve always been against Tshawings.” Chaz’s eyes narrowed into angry slits. “I want my sons.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nyxia looked ill. She groaned, “I don’t think these were bred to be eaten, whatever they are.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Worriedly, Jaiden raised the small mass closer to the pale-amber lights of the cavern. Cysts covered the creature’s mildly grotesque figure. Most of the sores spluttered dark-greening blue pulses; two sparkled dully with a golden sheen... and blinked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Nyxia pressed her fevered body to the cavern’s cool rock wall. Sweat bubbled from her quivering pores.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “I think it’s cooing.” Jaiden seemed oblivious to Nyxia’s plight. He stroked what he assumed to be the creature’s cheek. One of the cysts erupted, spewing its dim bluish pus into Jaiden’s haggard face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In reflex Jaiden dropped the now writhing blob. It started to hum as it splattered on the ground; the rest of its cysts bursted in unison as the hum grew louder. Tiny pebbles avalanched from the ceiling as the buzz shook the cavern. The amber lights quivered to the increasing beat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Three dull thuds sounded from the metallic door. Distracted, Chaz let go of his wife’s neck. Maurette fell to the ground and gasped in relief. Maroon blood dripped from her swollen lip. Chaz glared at her as if to say, &lt;i&gt;This isn’t over&lt;/i&gt;. He opened the door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; A tall, meagerly old man stood at the threshold. “I’ve come to collect the Tshawings,” he announced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Maurette stopped breathing completely; her eyes darted from the visitor to her husband and back again. Chaz’s glare remained focused on the old man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “You aren’t the usual collector,” Chaz said dryly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “No, no,” the old man replied, “I am the King’s Reissod. His Majesty has sent me specifically to collect this batch.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Chaz’s stare only grew more frigid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Reissod continued, “You see, His Holy Eye has foreseen a particular importance in one of your sons. So, if you’ll please...”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Chaz turned menacingly toward his wife. His jaw clenched, “Where are they?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Please,” Maurette pled to the old man at the door, “I... Chaz, he took them away... said they were monsters.” If it were possible, she looked paler. Tears fell freely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Chaz grabbed hold of Maurette’s thinning, silver hair and threw her at the servant’s feet. “She,” Chaz spat, “is hiding them. She doesn’t want them to be ordained Tshawings.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “He’s mad!” Maurette pleadingly grasped onto the Reissod’s topaz leather garments. “I didn’t... he took them away...”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The old man looked harshly at Maurrette. His sunken cheeks and darkly circled eyes sharpened his glare. Slowly he drew his sword. Mercury-red light seemed to melt from the blade’s slick metal surface. With a deft swipe, the Reissod dampened the sword’s glow as lipid indigo blood slushed onto his regal garb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Kill it,” Nyxia moaned, her unbearable pain throbbing with the noise. Mossy vomit oozed from her nose. “... or me,” she added, “... that would be okay, too.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Before he could do anything, Jaiden was blinded by a sharp flood of light, then nothing save silence and darkness remained.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1958844429104003099?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1958844429104003099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1958844429104003099' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1958844429104003099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1958844429104003099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/working-title-chapter-1-part-1-of-3.html' title='[Working Title] - Chapter 1, Part 1 of 3'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-9054433017266943150</id><published>2010-09-02T10:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T11:15:07.082-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News &amp; Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Good News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm back on the market (well, given some more time).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Bad News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... the bad news is kind of implicit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The breakup was, I think, as ideal as a breakup could be.  We're heading in different directions. Literally.  I'm becoming more and more bound to Utah while he's off to grad school outside thereof.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While we still had about a year of both being in Utah, I thought it was best to end things now--for a few reasons, one of which being something coming up (or should I say back?) in his life that I knew he needed to pursue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I teased him that it was for the sake of his memoirs (making for a story one often only finds in fiction), but really it was for the best chance for happiness (for both of us).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-9054433017266943150?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/9054433017266943150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=9054433017266943150' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/9054433017266943150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/9054433017266943150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/good-news-bad-news.html' title='Good News &amp; Bad News'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5733310008724121821</id><published>2010-09-02T02:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T03:12:26.081-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Naruto &amp; Sakura sitting in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TH9j40oOwmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/XEhE7-dE-x4/s1600/naruto-and-sasuke-kiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TH9j40oOwmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/XEhE7-dE-x4/s320/naruto-and-sasuke-kiss.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512234296775983714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;... WTHack?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of hacking, there's something rather cathartic about hacking computer games and controlling the timers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always hated being timed. Games. Tests. Life. Anything.  Time limits plus my anxiety equal havoc on my health, physical and mental.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't help that everything in this world is timed.  It sometimes drives me a little crazy (unfortunately in a little bit of a literal sense).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, instead of going absolutely insane and ridding the world of clocks (or worse... damn sun), I control time in my computer games.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's only fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;(P.S. You're welcome, boskers; I know how much you love the gay undertones of Naruto.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5733310008724121821?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5733310008724121821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5733310008724121821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5733310008724121821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5733310008724121821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/09/naruto-sakura-sitting-in.html' title='Naruto &amp; Sakura sitting in...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TH9j40oOwmI/AAAAAAAAAIM/XEhE7-dE-x4/s72-c/naruto-and-sasuke-kiss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8227981407950602187</id><published>2010-08-24T21:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T21:57:16.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Break It Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;The biggest problem in this world is people who attribute the biggest problem in this world to one specific thing.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8227981407950602187?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8227981407950602187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8227981407950602187' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8227981407950602187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8227981407950602187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/08/break-it-down.html' title='Break It Down'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-999724368122877343</id><published>2010-08-16T19:03:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T20:32:51.431-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Gays Can't Be Exalted #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-variant: small-caps; "&gt;worlds of only unicorns = not ecologically sound&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-variant: small-caps; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TGn0onv_OrI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DQDjaxTcpQM/s320/unicorn.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 279px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506200998139345586" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-999724368122877343?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/999724368122877343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=999724368122877343' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/999724368122877343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/999724368122877343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-gays-cant-be-exalted-1.html' title='Why Gays Can&apos;t Be Exalted #1'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TGn0onv_OrI/AAAAAAAAAIE/DQDjaxTcpQM/s72-c/unicorn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3020903199351386783</id><published>2010-08-15T22:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T23:42:05.243-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm such a baby...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;... when I'm sick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, throwing up is especially no fun when all you have is bile in your stomach and duodenum 'cause you eliminated everything else and weren't able to get something back in in time 'cause you were curled up, unable to move, and praying for death for a few hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also II, flu + depression meds = not so much absorption of the meds = extra not good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And yes, I'm totally whining.  I told you that I'm a baby when I'm sick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;In other news, I think my boyfriend is gay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3020903199351386783?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3020903199351386783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3020903199351386783' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3020903199351386783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3020903199351386783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-such-baby.html' title='I&apos;m such a baby...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4176450571110714577</id><published>2010-08-11T22:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T22:43:37.495-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blork</title><content type='html'>There once was a bird whose name was Blork.  Blork was a friendly bird.  One day it ate a pea and threw up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The End&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;moral of the story: Peas are gross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4176450571110714577?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4176450571110714577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4176450571110714577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4176450571110714577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4176450571110714577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/08/blork.html' title='Blork'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5370261474992898757</id><published>2010-08-01T22:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T01:35:40.946-06:00</updated><title type='text'>re: Rob's Recent Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://scrumcentral.blogspot.com/2010/08/dear-blog-readers.html"&gt;which can be found here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The core of what I ultimately told my parents:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;All that I ask from you is that you sincerely pray to know whether or not you can trust me and how you should treat me (i.e. whether or not you should treat me and my future male spouse as you would treat any of your other children and their spouses).  I will respect and honor whatever choice you make just as I hope that you will respect and honor the choices I am making.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's made a big difference (compared to trying to reason with them, explaining my decisions).  I believe the reason why it has been working so well so far is three-fold:&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I make no threat to their beliefs;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the focus is on &lt;i&gt;me as their son&lt;/i&gt; and how I'm doing in life instead of on a principle; and&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I stand as an example.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;Debating principles, I believe, is futile.  Their stances will be sufficiently challenged as they watch me walk the path I'm taking.  Therefore, it is necessary that they are watching... and they won't watch if they feel like I will constantly threaten and question the beliefs they feel are holy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And asking them to pray about &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt;, whether or not they can trust me, really puts the focus on watching me, where it ought to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They also know that if my future husband is not seen as part of the family as is any other sibling's spouse then they will lose me.  My mother would not (could not) stand for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My approach has been working so well with my parents that I'm considering sending a mass email to my siblings with the same message.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Granted, this is my family.  Not everyone reacts the same.  But it is the approach that I recommend.  Take it for what it's worth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I have more thoughts, but I'm just not organized in thought right now&lt;/span&gt;&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;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5370261474992898757?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5370261474992898757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5370261474992898757' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5370261474992898757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5370261474992898757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/08/re-robs-recent-post.html' title='re: Rob&apos;s Recent Post'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2555117180400486621</id><published>2010-07-29T23:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T00:10:33.085-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On Illegal Aliens</title><content type='html'>Last I heard, people had donated around $500,000 toward getting rid of illegal aliens in Arizona.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I understand, one of the biggest arguments is that illegal aliens are stealing jobs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... so, instead of people rallying together to donate $500,000 &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;TO CREATE MORE JOBS&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; (my dance academy, for example, currently has 8 positions that are currently volunteer positions because many people where I live cannot afford higher tuition prices for extracurricular activities), people have donated half of one million dollars toward forcing people out of this country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is this really how the world works?  Racism, hatred, vitriol, finger pointing, back-stabbing, the list goes on forever and ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why must people think, "Gee, there's a lack of jobs... I know, let's kick out the illegals!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why can't people think, "Gee, there's a lack of jobs... what can I do to create more?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do people give money when they hear, "FAMILIES ARE UNDER ATTACK!!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why won't people give when they hear, "Tooele is a talent-rich but a rather economic poor county.  Gangs are increasing (just look around at all the recent tagging).  Drug use is common.  There aren't a lot of affordable after school programs where kids can go and learn things that the school system is not able to teach and provide.  As a nonprofit dance academy, our goal is to serve as one such a program; however, in order to provide the necessary scholarships to run the program, offering our services to any child regardless of financial situation, we need your help."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm quite disenchanted with people right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They seem quite content "burning witches" and completely ignore how to really help society become a happier, more productive entity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2555117180400486621?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2555117180400486621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2555117180400486621' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2555117180400486621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2555117180400486621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/07/on-illegal-aliens.html' title='On Illegal Aliens'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3153583362259786175</id><published>2010-07-21T01:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T02:12:15.898-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gritz</title><content type='html'>I have decided that it's time to really take my diet seriously.  And by 'diet' I don't mean, "I gotsta lose weight," but "I gotsta eat more and more healthy food."  I think it will help me sleep and regulate my clinical depression better.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, if anyone has any recipes they'd like to share with me, I would greatly appreciate it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For reference:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't like pig (except italian sausage)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't cook with onions (blech)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't eat squash (except raw cucumbers)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't like bananas and find apples boring&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love peppers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love kiwi, pineapple, blackberries, raspberries, peaches, plums, and similar fruits&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I enjoy potatoes, carrots (raw or cooked), broccoli (steamed), green beans (steamed), spinach (raw)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Panag curry is perhaps my favorite curry--I love curry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pasta is heaven&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Breads and cheeses are bliss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cooking with herbs and spices is love&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Grilling is preferred (as cleaning my stove-top is hell)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fresh is best; however, I don't buy into that organic pooplah&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please comment or email me with any recipes you think I might enjoy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My gaunt cheeks are depending on you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3153583362259786175?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3153583362259786175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3153583362259786175' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3153583362259786175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3153583362259786175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/07/gritz.html' title='Gritz'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5199145218566953988</id><published>2010-07-15T09:09:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T09:48:31.985-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Kiss</title><content type='html'>... I guess all I can really say is, "I kissed a [boy], and I liked it."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Har-har.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, to be honest, I was hoping that I would feel some guilt, some tinge that would tell me that everything my family believes about this 'issue' is true.  It would have made everything so much easier.  I would have been able to justify finding a girl and making it work with her -- thereby making my family the happiest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, nope. No guilt.  There was no pinch of shame, whatsoever, no feeling like it need be kept secret/hidden.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... and you know what?  Since our officialness, he was even included in my invitation to my nephew's wedding.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's time I start giving my family more credit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5199145218566953988?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5199145218566953988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5199145218566953988' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5199145218566953988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5199145218566953988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-first-kiss.html' title='My First Kiss'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5272227309080261957</id><published>2010-07-09T05:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T05:38:25.391-06:00</updated><title type='text'>GMB &amp; I</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned previously, &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/02366029507118022319"&gt;A Gay Mormon Boy&lt;/a&gt; (aka GMB) and I are exclusively dating each other.  Some have asked for details, but I think I'll leave the story telling to GMB's more capable talents.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Granted, this does mean a year's wait... but it'll be worth it, I'm sure.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Besides, I don't want to harp on the fact that I'm not available... I don't want to remind people of that heartache (I jest, I jest!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In seriousness, though, I'm more keen on writing about personal progress, deep and/or shallow thoughts/philosophies, etc. as opposed to more specific details about my life.  I try to keep such latter details as general as possible... mostly because my life is pretty dern boring. Heh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That said, I do have some posts in mind that are related to my relationship with GMB.  In fact, I think my next post will have to do with my first kiss...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5272227309080261957?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5272227309080261957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5272227309080261957' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5272227309080261957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5272227309080261957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/07/gmb-i.html' title='GMB &amp; I'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8562522826984121238</id><published>2010-07-01T23:46:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T00:45:28.994-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>My business partner took a loan out in her name (well, technically it was in the name of her business she had started to teach ballet before she partnered up with me) to help cover the costs of starting up our dance academy (which I believed I've mentioned in the past).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've run into a little dilemma.  Things with the Academy are going fantastic, no problems paying the loan or anything like that.  It's just that her husband is feel a little frustrated because they don't qualify for a home because of their debt-to-income ratio (because of the aforementioned loan).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have two questions, seeing if anyone out there may be able to respond:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Would my friend be able to include the Academy's income as part of their household income?  (The Academy is set up as a 501(c)(3) nonprofit corporation, and we presently aren't paying ourselves a salary so that the Academy can grow the most quickly.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Is there anyone out there with (or who knows someone with) the appropriate resources willing to offer my Academy a private loan while we start looking for our sponsors?  Banks are weird about loans to nonprofits (a for-profit corporation with the success we've been having would get a great loan while we qualify for nothing).  Things are looking great for the Academy; we aren't having any problems paying the loan we have now, I'd just like to get it out of my friend's name so her family can buy a house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're still a few months away from seeking out sponsors and grants as I (the grant writer) am focusing on the IT stuff (i.e. website with online user accounts for the parents to pay and track their tuition and the students their choreography) right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8562522826984121238?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8562522826984121238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8562522826984121238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8562522826984121238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8562522826984121238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/07/questions.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1777210157085145512</id><published>2010-06-20T13:11:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T16:12:53.935-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News &amp; Bad News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Good News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've wrangled me up a boyfriend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Bad News&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://agaymormonboy.blogspot.com/"&gt;This bloke&lt;/a&gt;'s got to put up with me at least for a little while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1777210157085145512?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1777210157085145512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1777210157085145512' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1777210157085145512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1777210157085145512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/06/good-news-bad-news.html' title='Good News &amp; Bad News'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1585873794469101443</id><published>2010-06-13T23:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T23:58:47.048-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Distant Dreamer</title><content type='html'>I couldn't quite bring myself to watch the Tony Awards tonight (although I did record it).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been a dream of mine for quite some time to have my talents touch, in some way, the fabulousness that is Broadway.  While I'm not a very good singer, I do consider myself a decent actor, and watching anything Broadway makes me all itchy to hitchhike to NYC to see if I can get my foot in the door somehow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've also been dreaming of taking a summer to get a pastry diploma from Le Cordon Bleu up in Ottawa Canada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps none of these dreams will ever come true, but I've other dreams... which probably won't come true either... but at least I'm capable of dreaming, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, there's got to be some perks to being delusional... right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1585873794469101443?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1585873794469101443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1585873794469101443' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1585873794469101443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1585873794469101443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/06/distant-dreamer.html' title='Distant Dreamer'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2173360497205432710</id><published>2010-06-09T15:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T15:10:11.235-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Threesome (explained)</title><content type='html'>I was jokingly referring to eating strawberries, chocolate, and cream cheese together as a 'threesome.'&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would only be in a sexual threesome for a lot of money (I jest, I jest!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2173360497205432710?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2173360497205432710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2173360497205432710' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2173360497205432710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2173360497205432710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/06/threesome-explained.html' title='Threesome (explained)'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4998380865616597231</id><published>2010-06-09T03:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T03:24:24.611-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Threesome</title><content type='html'>Recently, a guy I've been dating turned me on to the idea of a threesome.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know what you all are thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What can I say except:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not against--I encourage, even--enjoying strawberries, cream cheese, and chocolate all at the same time... that trois is welcome in my ménage anytime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4998380865616597231?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4998380865616597231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4998380865616597231' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4998380865616597231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4998380865616597231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/06/threesome.html' title='Threesome'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3995539317310148572</id><published>2010-06-03T15:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T15:27:23.980-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Geek Humor</title><content type='html'>Now that my classes are finished until mid-July, I am in programming mode for my dance academy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In honor of such, I thought I would post a comic that I find rather drôle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TAgb5e633rI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Oi_utQM1bLU/s1600/exploits_of_a_mom.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 98px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TAgb5e633rI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Oi_utQM1bLU/s320/exploits_of_a_mom.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478659621062696626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;I am such a geek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to programming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sigh* So much to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3995539317310148572?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3995539317310148572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3995539317310148572' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3995539317310148572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3995539317310148572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/06/geek-humor.html' title='Geek Humor'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/TAgb5e633rI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Oi_utQM1bLU/s72-c/exploits_of_a_mom.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6439364546143949772</id><published>2010-05-25T13:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T15:14:40.180-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Speaking of Crazy</title><content type='html'>I have been extra crazy these past couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My insanity is screaming for a change of scene, to disappear and start my life over somewhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that my life's bad or anything.  I guess I'm just hitting a patch of boredom.  Sure I have a lot to do and what-not, but it's just drudgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've lost most of my passion for everything that's been going on in my life right now, I've lost that spark of interest.  Well, I'm quite passionate about my vision for my dance academy, but the whole problem of money is quite the spoiler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how we're going to find the money to do what we need to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could say that I'm joking, but part of me is seriously considering finding a sugar daddy... is that bad of me? Admittedly, it's not the best route to take, but it sure would be a quick one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6439364546143949772?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6439364546143949772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6439364546143949772' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6439364546143949772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6439364546143949772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/05/speaking-of-crazy.html' title='Speaking of Crazy'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2086343156290568662</id><published>2010-05-24T01:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T01:47:33.257-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Insanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;~Albert Einstein&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;This past year, I've really shaken up my approach to life.  Some positive things have happened.  Some not-so-positive things have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But insane I am becoming less... well, depending on one's definition of insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still pretty dern crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, I am getting different results out of life than I had been. Who knows if they're better or worse than my previous results.  Well... I guess not much can get worse to wanting to run a knife through your heart... perhaps I should say: Who knows if they're better than any other alternative changes I could have made, but I do enjoy life for the most part now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is a positive thing, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2086343156290568662?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2086343156290568662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2086343156290568662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2086343156290568662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2086343156290568662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/05/insanity.html' title='Insanity'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7135332826475180458</id><published>2010-05-17T15:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T15:40:35.576-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Swan Lake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/S_G0knS7suI/AAAAAAAAAHU/JEpB78ybPG8/s1600/Poster-Whiteb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/S_G0knS7suI/AAAAAAAAAHU/JEpB78ybPG8/s320/Poster-Whiteb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472353563348546274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who are interested, able, and close please come and support my dance academy this Saturday, May 22nd, at Stansbury High School (5300 N. Aberdeen Lane Stansbury, UT 84074), 7 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be performing our abridged adaptation of the ballet, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Swan Lake&lt;/span&gt;.  I, personally, am dancing the role of Rothbart, the evil sorcerer--but it still should be a decent show, nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's $4/person or $11/family (parents/guardians + children).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7135332826475180458?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7135332826475180458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7135332826475180458' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7135332826475180458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7135332826475180458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/05/swan-lake.html' title='Swan Lake'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/S_G0knS7suI/AAAAAAAAAHU/JEpB78ybPG8/s72-c/Poster-Whiteb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4270580914827565161</id><published>2010-05-06T03:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T03:14:51.208-06:00</updated><title type='text'>3 AM Experiments</title><content type='html'>My body is kind of reacting negatively to my recent stress and overworkedness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, for example, I slept until 3 PM, got up to teach until 7, and then crashed again until about 1 AM—not so great when you have a to-do list of a million and one empty check-boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully I've been able to find ways to destress at least a little.  Last night I had ice cream and watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Doctor Who&lt;/span&gt; with some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also remembered a destresser I had forgotten: baking (esp. experimenting with baking).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, my peach-marbled brownies experiment is baking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope it's a success.  The batter sure was fabulous, if I may so brag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4270580914827565161?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4270580914827565161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4270580914827565161' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4270580914827565161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4270580914827565161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/05/3-am-experiments.html' title='3 AM Experiments'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2835143148034836030</id><published>2010-05-03T01:50:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T02:16:14.131-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More Than I'm Willing to Admit to Myself</title><content type='html'>One of my nieces was baptized into the LDS Church on Saturday.  So I got to spend the morning with my family...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and I think hanging out with my family was more difficult for me than I'm willing to admit, even to myself.  I mean my 'nap' from 2:00 PM Saturday to 4:00 PM Sunday was more than just me being overworked, methinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm more bitter and angry and frustrated about feeling like I have to hide a part of myself from those with whom I'm the closest than I'm willing to admit to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it hurts more than I'm willing to admit to myself to hear the jovial and excited, "When are we going to meet Teena's boyfriend? We're so excited for Preston and Hannah's engagement!" comments, thinking how they would feel quite the opposite about any such thing for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of confronting these feelings, I'm just shutting down, lying to myself, pretending I'm not hurt.   It's most likely not the most healthy thing to be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's probably a good thing I don't have a boyfriend right now; not being able to have invited him probably would have made things more difficult for me to ignore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;... speaking of lying to myself and boys, I was probably thinking how nice it would have been to have been offended that I couldn't have invited a certain someone to the baptism more than I am willing to admit to myself...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2835143148034836030?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2835143148034836030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2835143148034836030' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2835143148034836030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2835143148034836030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/05/more-than-im-willing-to-admit-to-myself.html' title='More Than I&apos;m Willing to Admit to Myself'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5315242476775216727</id><published>2010-05-01T07:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T08:09:55.818-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What the May?</title><content type='html'>How did May get here so quickly? I am not ready for this... argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew being the CEO, President, Treasurer, IT department, design department, construction crew, ballroom director, ballroom instructor, tap director, and tap instructor of a rapidly growing nonprofit dance academy would be so exhausting and time &amp;amp; talent consuming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully enrollment will grow sufficiently that it all won't be volunteer work come Fall.  My piggy bank is empty... which means Magic 27th Birthday 5-27-2010 will have to cost $0.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... some may say, "Impossible!" to which I would append, "things are happening every day!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And some would be all, "You did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; just quote Hammerstein."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'd be all, "Uh, 'pretty sure I did; what are you going to do about it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then some would trash me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Sometimes I really dislike those some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5315242476775216727?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5315242476775216727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5315242476775216727' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5315242476775216727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5315242476775216727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-may.html' title='What the May?'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3021150296573395418</id><published>2010-04-28T02:52:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T02:53:56.230-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Big Spender</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/S9f3V40Hs9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/FlmcczD7k04/s1600/cfh_62.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/S9f3V40Hs9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/FlmcczD7k04/s320/cfh_62.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465108628237693906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;... and I've been making some generous deposits this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3021150296573395418?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3021150296573395418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3021150296573395418' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3021150296573395418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3021150296573395418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/hey-big-spender.html' title='Hey Big Spender'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/S9f3V40Hs9I/AAAAAAAAAHE/FlmcczD7k04/s72-c/cfh_62.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7202881225088672205</id><published>2010-04-23T23:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T23:56:25.602-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Classic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;As I've been playing around with poetry, I'm finding that I think I prefer writing formal poetry to free verse (not that I'm notable at either, but writing helps me in my lows--hence the gloominess of most of my poems).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also finding that I especially enjoy playing with classical metrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my current work-in-progress, '&lt;a href="http://andrewmpankratz.blogspot.com/2010/04/as-man-as-king-stanzas-i-ii.html"&gt;As Man, As King&lt;/a&gt;,' I'm using iambic trimeter, but allowing the first foot to become either a cretic or molossus and the last either an amphibrach or antibacchius (yes, I have my reasons for such).  I'm also using a very simple rhyming scheme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal and challenge is to avoid sounding bouncy and rhyme-y, toward which iambic feet and simple rhyming schemes (especially with few feet) tend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;This is how I often de-stress... I am such a nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7202881225088672205?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7202881225088672205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7202881225088672205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7202881225088672205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7202881225088672205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/classic.html' title='Classic'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4393458854209048168</id><published>2010-04-21T20:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T21:55:25.814-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One day you're in, the next day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;... you're out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning to that familiar asphyxiating voice, taunting with the alarm, "You can't do this, you can't do this, you can't do this..."  Trying to ground myself, I closed my eyes and reached out with my other senses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened; rain almost deftly flicked the windows.  I felt; gravity wrapped its arms around me and pulled my body into the softness of my bed.   I smelled; vanilla and lavender crept, whirled and massaged the air around my nostrils.  I tasted; I should have brushed after my late night snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt; my gentle sheets caressed the cold bareness of my back as I pulled the covers over me.  I listened; the alarm again  taunted, "You can't do this, you can't do this, you can't do this..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't do what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm doing just fine, great even.  Look how productive I was yesterday.  The ticket and poster designs are fabulous, the databases are coming along well. Things are great."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not worth it.  You can't do this.  It's all going to go to crap."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's going on? Did I miss my meds?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're worthless.  Alone.  Look around you.  Nobody.  You can't do this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten more minutes and I had to be heading to the studio for my first class of the day.  I traced my breaths in and out of my lungs.  I focused on each  nose hair, feeling, imagining them sway.   Lavender and vanilla clouded around me, trying to push away the smoggy thoughts.  Gravity worriedly hugged me closer into the safety of my bed.  My sheets nuzzled me with concern.  Five more minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trembling, though not visibly, I got out of bed, letting the cold hardness of the wood floors drown out the "... you're alone, nobody's on your side... worthless, alone, worthless, alone..." thoughts.  My neighbor's clanking masked the "... you can't do this, you can't do this, you can't do this..." thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the rest of the day, I would and will have to live in the immediate present, no past, no future, just smells and feels and hears and sees and tastes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4393458854209048168?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4393458854209048168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4393458854209048168' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4393458854209048168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4393458854209048168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/one-day-youre-in-next-day.html' title='One day you&apos;re in, the next day...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5483545728612888284</id><published>2010-04-21T03:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T04:00:24.861-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear [Him],</title><content type='html'>Please stop smiling and blushing like that.  It's not good for me and my goal and efforts to get over you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and what have you done to [BFF]?  She is now convinced that you and I were made for each other.  Please let her know that it will never be.  I'm far too busy convincing myself of such that I have neither the time nor energy to focus on [BFF].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighing-ly,&lt;br /&gt;[Me]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5483545728612888284?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5483545728612888284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5483545728612888284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5483545728612888284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5483545728612888284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-him.html' title='Dear [Him],'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4225627556783265447</id><published>2010-04-16T00:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T00:51:38.392-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blargh !</title><content type='html'>It's inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I finally convince myself that I'm over [Him], something eventually happens that reminds me that I'm just lying to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I worry (quite a bit) that I will never be over him and that the guys I've been dating -slash- will date don't really have that fair of a chance with me, all because of [Him].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;~sigh~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4225627556783265447?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4225627556783265447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4225627556783265447' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4225627556783265447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4225627556783265447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/blargh.html' title='Blargh !'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3911837998991476475</id><published>2010-04-12T21:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T21:48:12.899-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Andrew at 18,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://scrumcentral.blogspot.com/2010/04/grown-up-rob-talks-to-teenage-rob.html"&gt;as per Rob's request&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a homo.  Get used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves,&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Martin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3911837998991476475?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3911837998991476475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3911837998991476475' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3911837998991476475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3911837998991476475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-andrew-at-18.html' title='Dear Andrew at 18,'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3207457050156625611</id><published>2010-04-12T11:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T12:11:17.805-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, Please</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="350" height="202"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/UKAevArhtYkE8S1SScPj3g"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/UKAevArhtYkE8S1SScPj3g" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="350" height="202"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope he doesn't mind sharing a bed with my marzipan husband.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3207457050156625611?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3207457050156625611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3207457050156625611' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3207457050156625611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3207457050156625611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/yes-please.html' title='Yes, Please'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-7361822402367548639</id><published>2010-04-11T03:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T03:53:39.474-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear 3 AM,</title><content type='html'>I know we've been great pals for the past few years. You've been there, without fail, whenever I've been at my lowests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gotten to the point, however, that I must subconsciously think I need you, even when I'm not feeling depressed. Okay, okay, today was a rather low day for me and for no apparent reason, really. Clinical depression sure is a pain, n'est-ce pas ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't you getting tired of it, though? I mean, I know I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And... well, to be blunt, I'm afraid you're sort of enabling things here. Whenever my depression whispers that I'm a worthless failure at everything I do, you just sit there, ticking along... enjoying that I'm here with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, though. It's not like we've never had any fun together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I'm saying that it's time that we focus on the fun times, yeah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, this would mean less time together... but it would also mean that the time we do spend with each other would be healthier and much more enjoyable for the both of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep is essential for me right now. Responsibility frequents my abode much more often these days than in the past... things just can't keep going as they are now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need my space from you for a little while. However, I do promise that we will have some fantastic times together in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much Love and Gratitude,&lt;br /&gt;Andrew M. Pankratz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-7361822402367548639?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/7361822402367548639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=7361822402367548639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7361822402367548639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/7361822402367548639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-3-am.html' title='Dear 3 AM,'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1399924735250679591</id><published>2010-04-10T01:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T01:37:23.020-06:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>What have I gotten myself into?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My proverbial plate is so full (as is my 'tummy') that I don't know how I'm going to do everything that needs to get done. It would be helpful if my body weren't begging for a six month hibernation... yet, when it is time to sleep... nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it's time for me to take something off my plate, but what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My slowly growing social life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... it is the only thing not bound to financial responsibility right now... and I am naturally a hermit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I dare increase the odds that I will end up as the eccentric old man living alone on the top of the hill? Would that be so bad, if bad at all? It has been a future I've always considered. Nikola Tesla is my hero, after all. It's too bad I'm not as brilliant as he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm perhaps as crazy as Tesla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh. Insane without the genius... ah man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, as for right now, I'm going to go take a bubble bath in the dark (perhaps with some candles... oOo, sexay...) whilst I listen to Chopin's Mazurkas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Moral of this Post: I think I'm in love with both Chopin and Tesla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1399924735250679591?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1399924735250679591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1399924735250679591' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1399924735250679591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1399924735250679591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4696618129254919129</id><published>2010-04-06T14:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T15:27:53.241-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Grumblings and Mumblings</title><content type='html'>Ugh... I am burned out. Even in some of my dreams, I'm sitting and staring at walls, wondering where the hell I'm going to get the energy to do everything I need to get done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, my sweet little subconscious-self... he's doing what he can, trying to take care of things while I'm sleeping. Poor fool doesn't realize that putting gas in the car, for example, in a dream doesn't put gas in the car in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also doesn't realize that it makes me a little grumpy that I have to do all those mundane tasks again, for real, after I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, subconscious-self, why can't you dream of extraordinary adventures? Why must you dream about taking out the trash, cleaning the kitchen, and doing laundry? Are you angry with me? What have I done to upset you? How can I make it up to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of grumpy, though, I'm wondering if it's "that time of month" for me. Everything is pissing me off. Of course, my "pissiness" is really just me being extra cynical and sarcastic, which some find quite entertaining. I'm usually not a mean grump, which I like about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, I do get über insecure about things when I'm in such a mood...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;... sometimes I feel like such a girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4696618129254919129?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4696618129254919129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4696618129254919129' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4696618129254919129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4696618129254919129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/grumblings-and-mumblings.html' title='Grumblings and Mumblings'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1678355023078181202</id><published>2010-04-05T20:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T21:19:44.957-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>I've decided that I need to get out of this small town of drabbery where I live for a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I won't really have any free time (other than weekends) until the end of May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... maybe I'll plan a road trip to Canada for my birthday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magical Birthday 2010, Option Alpha: Road Trip to Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Any other ideas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1678355023078181202?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1678355023078181202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1678355023078181202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1678355023078181202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1678355023078181202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2357628698265141806</id><published>2010-04-03T23:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T23:52:22.522-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In Lighter News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(can you tell I'm avoiding work today?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just listened to Lady Gaga's song, '&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhM0GW-P0mo"&gt;Teeth&lt;/a&gt;' (no, it's not the first time I've heard it)... it gave me... ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;... shame on you Lady Gaga...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other gay songs I've been enjoying lately: '&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XgvfuAypTpM&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Boys Boys Boys&lt;/a&gt;' &amp;amp; '&lt;a href="http://www.logotv.com/video/rupaul/499846/devil-made-me-do-it.jhtml?id=1635370"&gt;Devil Made Me Do It&lt;/a&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, I've been racking up some serious gay points lately... I'm not so worried about losing my membership anymore. Granted, I still have to fill out all those reports and send them into Gay-Quarters... ugh... is there no end to bureaucracy?? This damned agenda is almost more work than it's worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Well, I guess I should go back to choreographing things I can teach my students... *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2357628698265141806?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2357628698265141806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2357628698265141806' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2357628698265141806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2357628698265141806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/in-lighter-news.html' title='In Lighter News'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5681909915671128269</id><published>2010-04-03T23:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T23:12:16.333-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gesture I Needed</title><content type='html'>My little brother invited me to Priesthood Session today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I declined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then invited me to dinner afterward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was just what I needed for me to know things are going to be okay between my family and me. I don't feel like I need to send any letter now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll stick to my original plan, to simply live my life and let them come to me if they have any questions or concerns.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5681909915671128269?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5681909915671128269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5681909915671128269' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5681909915671128269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5681909915671128269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/gesture-i-needed.html' title='The Gesture I Needed'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3424469637855646668</id><published>2010-04-03T15:53:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T16:07:19.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Family,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;(version 2.1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've recently found that there is still a lot of concern about me. While I don't know if this concern is shared by all, most, or just a few of you, I do understand why you are worried. In complete honesty, I appreciate your desires for me to be happy, not just in this life but in the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps there's not much I can do to help ease your anxieties over me and my decision to date guys. All I can offer is to honestly say that I feel nothing but encouragement from God, a sense that He is pleased with the direction I am heading in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am personally no longer burdened by being gay. I am no longer conflicted. I am confident with my decisions and relationship with God. Never before have I felt His love so strongly for me than I do now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing I do, specifically something so heavy as pursuing a husband, without that solemn, peaceful, godly hand on my shoulder guiding me in the direction He would have me travel, being genuinely willing to travel anywhere He would have me go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come judgment day, I will happily stand before God and present my life—the good, the bad, the zany, the mundane, the tender, the awkward, the romantic, the heartbreaking—covering nothing up with the sincere testimony that my greatest intent was to live a life pleasing to Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like you for me, I care for you. I love you. I want you to be happy and healthy. Life is stressful and burdensome enough as it is, I truly don't want you to be burdened by my decisions. There is no reason to be; although, as I said, I do understand where you're coming from, why many of you are concerned. I pray that you will receive the same comfort I have received concerning my decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Martin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3424469637855646668?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3424469637855646668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3424469637855646668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3424469637855646668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3424469637855646668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-family_03.html' title='Dear Family,'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-6845437833130068104</id><published>2010-04-03T02:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T03:28:40.143-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Family,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;(version 2.0)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've recently found that there is still a lot of concern about me. While I don't know if this concern is shared by all, most, or just a few of you, I do understand why you are worried. In complete honesty, I appreciate your desires for me to be happy, not just in this life but in the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps there's not much I can do to help ease your anxieties over me and my decision to date guys, but I can offer my sincere testimony that I feel nothing but encouragement from God, a sense that He is pleased with the direction I am heading in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I am personally no longer burdened by being gay. I am no longer  conflicted. I am confident with my  decisions and relationship with God. There is nothing I do, specifically something so heavy as pursuing a husband, without that solemn, peaceful, godly hand on my shoulder guiding me in the direction He would have me travel, being genuinely willing to travel left, right, straight ahead, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I know my testimony challenges your paradigms, I also know that it is your duty as devout followers of Christ to judge based upon the fruits one's decisions bring instead of the array of options you believe are or aren't possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please understand that I am not asking for acceptance. My only desire in writing and sending this letter is to promise you that if you look at me (I mean sincerely look at me, who I am, and feel the intentions of my heart) then you will receive the same comfort I have received. Such unparadigmed [&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sic&lt;/span&gt;], unfiltered eyes are the pure love of Christ. Such is the only kind of love I can accept as true love for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like you for me, I care for you. I love you. I want you to be happy and healthy. Life is stressful and burdensome enough as it is, I truly don't want you to be burdened by my decisions. There is no reason to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Martin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-6845437833130068104?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/6845437833130068104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=6845437833130068104' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6845437833130068104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/6845437833130068104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/dear-family.html' title='Dear Family,'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3846347655847499447</id><published>2010-04-01T20:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T21:06:07.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do I Hope to Accomplish?</title><content type='html'>As with all the other comments, JGW's comment, "I'm just curious what you hope to achieve with this letter...  It sounds  like your family already all know you're gay...  It sounds like you're  asking them to approve of you dating guys," has me thinking about some things... specifically how to better word my letter to make known my intentions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revisions to my letter pending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for right now, though, I've some programming to do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3846347655847499447?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3846347655847499447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3846347655847499447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3846347655847499447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3846347655847499447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-do-i-hope-to-accomplish.html' title='What Do I Hope to Accomplish?'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5397325955840082632</id><published>2010-04-01T16:27:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T16:53:16.494-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I should wait?</title><content type='html'>Considering the comments on my letter to my family, I'm wondering if I should hold off sending anything until I have a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, it gives me more of a reason to send something. It makes it more real, taking it out of realm of theory and what-ifs and putting it into the "I have a boyfriend, how are you going to treat and see him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, who knows when I'll get a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the foot, what's the rush?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I want my family to know that I'm not struggling with being gay. There's no conflict left in me. Although, the more I think about it, the more I feel that I should wait until I have something more concrete for them to consider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm becoming a rather patient person. While I still have pings of wanting to push and prod things along with my family, I think I can handle just going with the flow as I do with most things in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... of course, my laissez-faire attitude has backfired a few times before...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5397325955840082632?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5397325955840082632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5397325955840082632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5397325955840082632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5397325955840082632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/04/maybe-i-should-wait.html' title='Maybe I should wait?'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-69747608525303476</id><published>2010-03-31T23:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T00:28:46.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Family,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(I would very much appreciate any input, suggested revisions, etc. before I send this out to my family.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sincerely hope you all know how much I love, respect, and admire each of you. I do appreciate your concern for me and my choices in regards to being gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many, if not all, of you I'm sure are worried that I am heading down the wrong path. I wish I could take that burden from you. All I can really do is try to assure you that my decisions are not made with my genitals and hormones but with a sincere desire to do what is right for me, not just for this life but also for the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years were spent in earnest and sincere prayer, meditation, fasting, scripture study, et al. as I sought to know what I should do. I was, am, and will always be genuinely willing to do whatever I feel inspired to do, no matter what it may be. I trust my relationship with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer struggle with anything 'being gay'-wise. I am dating guys. &lt;span style="text-decoration:line-through"&gt;I no longer have virgin lips... and&lt;/span&gt; [I]n my sincere seeking to understand God's will for me, I have felt absolutely nothing but encouragement and a sense that God is pleased with me and the direction my life is heading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it has troubled me that you struggle with my decisions, most likely not  trusting the sincerity of my intentions, words, or testimonies, I have decided that I have done  all I can to help you with your burden concerning me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the struggle is yours. I will continue to do everything I can to help you through this struggle... though, like I said, all I can do is be completely open and honest with you. Again, it's up to you now. I will not try to force any dialogue. I will not try to force any decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will respect any decision you make, even if it means that you won't be at my wedding (if I end up finding Mr. Future Hubs), if I can't attend family gatherings because my boyfriend or husband wouldn't be invited, etc. Yes, it will be painful for me. I'm sure tears will be shed on my behalf, but I understand that respect is a 'two-way street,' so to speak. I can't expect you to respect my wishes of being treated as any other sibling regardless of whom I love, date, and marry if I don't respect your desire to keep me at a distance because you cannot support my decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I do hope that those I date will be treated the same as those anyone else has dated or is dating. I do hope that the person I end up marrying will be treated and seen the same as any other in-law. If it doesn't end up happening, then I'll deal with that pain the best I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I love you all dearly. I hope and pray for the very best for each of you and your families.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Martin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-69747608525303476?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/69747608525303476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=69747608525303476' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/69747608525303476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/69747608525303476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/dear-family.html' title='Dear Family,'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4325785661567374789</id><published>2010-03-31T00:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T01:04:14.481-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Butch</title><content type='html'>Recently, I went to an auto salvage yard, got me a taillight for my car, and installed it myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Yeah, I'm pretty butch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, so it didn't even require any tools, just the pure power of my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, my recent 'butchness' pales in comparison to my last summer adventure of building my own sprung dance floor out of scratch, mostly by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Yeah, I'm pretty butch, indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to take a nice, warm, exotic cherry blossom bubble bath)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4325785661567374789?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4325785661567374789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4325785661567374789' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4325785661567374789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4325785661567374789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/butch.html' title='Butch'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-4176454486593602607</id><published>2010-03-29T00:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T00:54:51.157-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Spring Break Needs</title><content type='html'>I need:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;to renew my car registration;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to program a custom accounting program for my dance academy;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to finalize my Tango and Paso Doble choreography;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to install the trim on my dance floor;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to make my wings;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to cut one more song;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to design tickets;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to finally get things ready for my web programmer;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;to get caught up on my curriculum;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;... to relax and have fun??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-4176454486593602607?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/4176454486593602607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=4176454486593602607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4176454486593602607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/4176454486593602607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-spring-break-needs.html' title='My Spring Break Needs'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5543916742134339471</id><published>2010-03-28T02:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T03:06:52.105-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Underoos Panty-kratz</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Warning: This post may cause you to visualize me in my underwear... not that you haven't already*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a few hours to kill today, so I decided to walk aimlessly around a few stores. In my not-even-window-shopping, I noticed the wall of Underoos in Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminded of the nickname (referring to the title of this post) my sister, Teena, had haphazardly given me a few years ago, I perused the selection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oooh, Spider-Man Boxer Briefs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[eyes widen]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GLOW-IN-THE-DARK PRINTS?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(reading package of largest size) "...hmm... I weigh more than twice that much, and my waist is almost 6 inches larger..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About $6 and 20 minutes later, I'm in my sister's bathroom squeezing into my first pair of Underoos in perhaps 20 years... realizing as I look into the mirror that I had finally bought a pair of underwear that may just let me keep my gay card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rise: Über-Low&lt;br /&gt;Goods: Smashed&lt;br /&gt;Novelty: Off the Charts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In related news: I have, for the first time in my life, been thankful for my small derrière.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*I jest ; calme-toi !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5543916742134339471?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5543916742134339471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5543916742134339471' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5543916742134339471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5543916742134339471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/underoos-panty-kratz.html' title='Underoos Panty-kratz'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8946767171585014783</id><published>2010-03-24T16:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T16:31:36.453-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dangerous</title><content type='html'>Teaching kiddos is a dangerous job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear this is like my hundredth cold (or whatever this evilness is) this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;... one more class, and then I'll be able to go to bed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8946767171585014783?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8946767171585014783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8946767171585014783' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8946767171585014783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8946767171585014783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/dangerous.html' title='Dangerous'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2604194788554660351</id><published>2010-03-23T12:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T13:09:41.821-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Degrees of Accomplishment</title><content type='html'>A recent experience reminded me that I have a "degree system" for my goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the best way to explain what I mean is to give an example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Base Goal&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Make BYU's Ballroom Team&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;First Degree&lt;/span&gt; - Make team before graduation.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Second Degree&lt;/span&gt; - Make team first year trying out.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Third Degree&lt;/span&gt; - Be told by one of the dance instructors that I should try out.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fourth Degree&lt;/span&gt; - Be invited onto team without trying out.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I accomplished this example goal to the 3rd degree, it being only one of three that has gone so far. One of those three surpassed the fourth degree (not only did I take state in dramatic interpretation with a perfect score, my nose started to bleed at the most perfect of times as I was performing my piece--&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jekyll &amp;amp; Hyde&lt;/span&gt;--for the medal round).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't actually sit down and think out specific conditions for the degrees of my goals. I merely set the base goal, and then, once I've accomplished my goal, I tend to evaluate to what degree it was accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm always more than happy accomplishing my goals to the first degree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2604194788554660351?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2604194788554660351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2604194788554660351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2604194788554660351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2604194788554660351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/degrees-of-accomplishment.html' title='Degrees of Accomplishment'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3852825830736352813</id><published>2010-03-21T23:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T00:13:05.101-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting Until Marriage (Reprise)</title><content type='html'>On Friday one of my older brothers visited and told me, "I know you can change if you just wanted it." As he 'bore his testimony,' I realized, remembering wanting to change more than I needed water, that my family is going to see what they want to see, no matter what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does this have to do with waiting until marriage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... I have failed to admit (even to myself) the real reason why I felt like I should wait until I was married before I had sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to use my premarital chastity as bragging rights, to be able to use it as ammunition against my family and any other naysayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I also felt that I had to prove my worth to them... and to God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all based on feelings of fear and worthlessness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took last night (and I mean the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;entire&lt;/span&gt; night) to analyze, evaluate, ponder, meditate, and pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In such, I realized that I had nothing to prove. My family will think whatever they think. God is guiding me, step by step, and will warn me when I'm stepping over the bounds of what I should be doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, I realized that the most important thing I should do, not just with sex,  is keep my personal connection with God strong and listen to His guidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In whole, this experience has brought me even more peace, comfort, and has removed yet another weighty burden from my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Plain and simple is this plan which has never let me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3852825830736352813?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3852825830736352813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3852825830736352813' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3852825830736352813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3852825830736352813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/waiting-until-marriage-reprise.html' title='Waiting Until Marriage (Reprise)'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-2755719177794804666</id><published>2010-03-16T18:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T18:52:10.928-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Although...</title><content type='html'>... I did kind of lose a friend...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-2755719177794804666?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/2755719177794804666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=2755719177794804666' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2755719177794804666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/2755719177794804666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/although.html' title='Although...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8604411142058843856</id><published>2010-03-16T03:39:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T09:06:22.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The good... the bad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQNqk54HPdE&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;... the Monkees&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As cruddy as the last few days were, they have opened up some dialogue between my parents and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping it will continue to be positive, especially now that I am no longer bitter or angst-ridden toward the LDS Church... now that I have a much more level head on my shoulders than last I talked with my parents about me being homo and my choices therein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I sometimes forget that shit is the original fertilizer... and I grewed up on a crop farm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;chicken crap smells the worst&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8604411142058843856?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8604411142058843856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8604411142058843856' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8604411142058843856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8604411142058843856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/good-bad.html' title='The good... the bad...'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3100228591079125359</id><published>2010-03-14T18:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T18:05:03.733-06:00</updated><title type='text'>WTHeck?</title><content type='html'>OMGosh, karma, what the hell did I do to deserve the bitch slap that has been this weekend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way people are treating me, it's like I've been kicking orphans for fun...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3100228591079125359?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3100228591079125359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3100228591079125359' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3100228591079125359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3100228591079125359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/wtheck.html' title='WTHeck?'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-8921145523315126685</id><published>2010-03-13T06:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T06:59:01.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of *Those* Days</title><content type='html'>Well, today started off like crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day has just begun, and I'm already ready for it to be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's always nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Oh sweet, a new episode of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Scrubs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day is looking up already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-8921145523315126685?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/8921145523315126685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=8921145523315126685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8921145523315126685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/8921145523315126685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/one-of-those-days_13.html' title='One of *Those* Days'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-882040150529498547</id><published>2010-03-13T04:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T04:27:48.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deal Breakers of the Second Variety</title><content type='html'>I spent the evening tonight with my life-long friend (seriously, we were basically best friends when our mothers were pregnant with us) and his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was driving home, I decided that I'd like Mr. Future Hubs to be able to get along with them. So much so that I think it would be a deal breaker if the four of us couldn't enjoy an evening together just sitting around, shooting the breeze (people still use this idiom, yes?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also decided that my 'bff' Sarah will need to approve of Mr. Future Hubs. She's a good judge of character and has become one of the greatest supports and supplements to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still debating on "being able to dance really well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, I'd very much like to be able to dance the Rumba full out with someone, and I don't think I could do that (let such barriers down) with anyone except a luvuh; however, on the other hand, I don't know if that's a requirement, how important it is to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;... there are a few other possible deal breakers that I'm debating as well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-882040150529498547?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/882040150529498547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=882040150529498547' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/882040150529498547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/882040150529498547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/deal-breakers-of-second-variety.html' title='Deal Breakers of the Second Variety'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-1405252265193071667</id><published>2010-03-11T21:53:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T22:12:05.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of Those Days</title><content type='html'>It's been one of those "a little under the weather, nothing major, but enough to just want to stay low-key" days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I've become content with the possibility that I may never meet Mr. Future Hubs*, on days like this I do think that it would be really nice to have a significant other to cuddle up with and watch a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But tonight it's looking like it's just me, a blanket, a pillow, Spencer Bear (my teddy bear I've had since I was almost 3), some dark hot chocolate with chocolate raspberry creamer, and either &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Precious&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pan's Labyrinth&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While not as appealing as cuddling with a 'luvuh,' I think it'll do tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I honestly do not say such in any sort of cynical way. I just think it's logical that I should prepare for this possibility.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-1405252265193071667?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/1405252265193071667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=1405252265193071667' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1405252265193071667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/1405252265193071667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of Those Days'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-3165492356717479472</id><published>2010-03-11T19:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T19:34:25.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Replacing Sushi</title><content type='html'>For the past two or three years, I've had three goals that aren't really vital to my life--meaning, I don't need to accomplish these goals in order to feel like my life was worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The goals:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn how to swim;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go camping for the first time; and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Try sushi&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Now that I've tried sushi, I'm thinking of replacing the third goal with another not-really-necessary goal... you know, always keep three such goals replenished throughout my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After thinking of several possibilities, I've decided that my new goal is [drum-roll]:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go on a road-trip to Canada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-3165492356717479472?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/3165492356717479472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=3165492356717479472' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3165492356717479472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/3165492356717479472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/replacing-sushi.html' title='Replacing Sushi'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-525193437532849536</id><published>2010-03-10T05:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T05:37:13.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clinical vs "Common" Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Preamble: As I am apt to do, I am using my own terminology, not necessarily "the standard."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had to curtly explain the difference between what I clinical depression and what I call common depression, it would be thus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;With common depression, the negative thoughts are created by an event (i.e. a death of a loved one).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With clinical depression, the negative thoughts, while often triggered by an event, are created by a chemical imbalance.&lt;/blockquote&gt;Counseling is beneficial for both types of depression, in my opinion. Medicines, on the other hand, I feel are best suited for clinical depression and could possibly worsen common depression by messing with the body's chemicals when it is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;simply reacting as it should&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One needn't be too astute to realize that perhaps the greatest difficulty in treating depression lies in realizing whether or not the depression is based upon circumstance or a chemical imbalance triggered by circumstance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, personally, used to believe that my depression was mostly circumstantial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything was going great. My future looked amazing^4. Then, one night as I was walking to my room ~SCHTUK~ I was done with life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no reason to feel depressed. I had no reason to want to give up. Indeed, quite the opposite was true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, I didn't care about anything. The positive didn't matter. The lack of negative didn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were to have asked me, "If you could steal away to anywhere, where would you go?" I would have answered, "Six feet under."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... I was once again tied up by depression.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-525193437532849536?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/525193437532849536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=525193437532849536' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/525193437532849536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/525193437532849536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/clinical-vs-common-depression.html' title='Clinical vs &quot;Common&quot; Depression'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8024851665844384644.post-5236335652675945780</id><published>2010-03-08T19:45:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T20:16:36.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensif</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been keeping my blog mostly light-hearted, maybe even "fluffy" if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been avoiding my deeper pensive moments, mostly because such have been on the topic of clinical depression... and I didn't want to sound all 'emo.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a few people have recently asked me what I think about/what it's like when I'm low and how/why I hit lows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe it's time I talked a little more in depth about this gig called depression...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;!-- test --&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8024851665844384644-5236335652675945780?l=chedner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/feeds/5236335652675945780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8024851665844384644&amp;postID=5236335652675945780' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5236335652675945780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8024851665844384644/posts/default/5236335652675945780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chedner.blogspot.com/2010/03/pensif.html' title='Pensif'/><author><name>Chedner</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14963974112297032614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TBGnso8VdXM/SxdZi5LwzEI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4a67M3sNQ4M/S220/heman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
