<?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-14011453</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:25:24.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TOPAZ BUTTERFLY</title><subtitle type='html'>This is just a collection of my own thoughts. Writing, is my way of letting my voice be heard. Don't ever catch a butterfly by its wings!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-114464244721035076</id><published>2006-04-09T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T08:32:52.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RED LETTER WORTHY</title><content type='html'>The idea for this post materialized from a conversation with a good friend of mine. I was talking about my younger brother and how he doesn't realize that his years in high school are going to be some of the best of his life. My friend Matt said that he hopes that he hasn't lived the best day of his life yet.  He had a really good point. I hope that I haven't lived the best day of my life yet either because if I have then there is not much to look forward to.  This mindset of thinking "the best is yet to come" is the avenue to keeping hope alive. "Eventually our future becomes our past". I like to use "Dawsonisms". The character Pacey said this to the character Joey on Dawson's Creek when discussing whether or not their lives would continue to go in the same direction as the decision to go to college was upon them.  It is true our future eventually does become the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would like to take a few minutes and think about the days gone by out of my life.  As far back as I can remember, I have always looked up to my older brother Ben. He has no idea how he has influenced my life or how proud I am to call him my brother and to be known as his little sister.  He wasn't always that fond of me so I considered it a good day when he was nice to me for a change. The day he stopped picking on me for good is when I accidentally kicked him in the kneecaps. He really hasn't bothered me since then.  It was long overdue for my brother to look at me as his equal instead of his annoying baby sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time away from home because my parents are divorced and I had to spend every other weekend with my dad and his new family.  We had some good and not so good times together.  On Saturdays, when it was either fall or winter, we would go to the skating rink. I remember I used to get so excited when the theme from "Ghostbusters" was played because the lights went down and it was fun to skate in the dark.  In the summertime, we would always go to the country club to swim and it was always a privilege for my dad to drive me around in his golf cart.  It was always a privilege for me to spend any time at all alone with my dad which didn't happen too often.  When my stepmother went to visit her family, Daddy would pick me up and he would make a pot of canned chili on the stovetop. There was nothing better than Kelly's canned chili at that particular time of my life. I wouldn't even try my grandmother's homemade chili. I hope I didn't hurt her feelings. The times that I actually had my Daddy's undivided attention are moments that I cherish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met my best friend when I was twelve years old. We didn't actually like each other at first. We had to warm up to each other.  I loved spending time with her family because they were so called "normal" unlike my blended one. I really looked up to and respected her dad. The summer before my senior year of high school, I got to go on vacation to Gulf Shores with them. We had a really good time. My best friend, Heather and I got into a fight. In fact every trip that we have ever been on together we got into a fight. I suppose that it is just the nature of best friends to argue, fight, and make up and even more so the nature of sisters. Heather and I are more like sisters than we are best friends. It was so great to have our own secret code and inside jokes that nobody else understood. From time to time, and probably more often than we should have we spent what we called "lazy days" which meant that we spent all day in our pajamas being lazy trying to solve the world's problems.  For the most part, Heather and I lived in a bubble. At first, it wasn't easy sharing my best friend with her then boyfriend and  now her husband. I was very honored to take front row seats at her wedding as a bridesmaid.  Just recently, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. That is one event I will not soon forget and I am sure that she won't either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During college, I met some really awesome people who I just so happened to work with. Two guys in particular made my time at that department store worthwhile.  One of the guys was just a friend.  He reminded me alot of my older brother. He said that I reminded him of his older sister.  Sometimes, Chris and I would fight like brother and sister.  One day, while working together we just bonded.  I don't stay in touch with him anymore, but that doesn't mean that he wasn't once a part of my life.  He really was fun to hang out with especially when he took me for rides in his jeep or we quizzed each other on Saved By the Bell trivia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other guy Will was much more than a friend. He was my first love. At first we were friends, but it didn't take long for us to fall for one another.  He only saw the good in me.  We were kindred spirits.  We had a lot of good times together. I consider myself blessed having known him and having been a part of his life. He is special. He will go down in the books as being one of the great loves of my life.  I will always look back at that time of my life and smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I count myself very blessed to have met Cherrie who is my adult best friend. I met her working in retail.  We became very close. When she lived here, we would go out and eat together alot. I got to spend a great deal of time with her when she was pregnant with her first child. Her husband would go out of town alot of times on business. So I would stay with Cherrie and we would just sit up and talk.  At the time, I was struggling with letting go of a relationship. Cherrie really listened and helped me see things in a different light. I am very privileged to have been given her advice and perspective on different matters. She is older so I benefit from getting advice from someone with more life experience than me. She is a "God send". I am very grateful for her friendship.  There was something very comforting about going over to Cherrie's house after school, and partaking in a refreshing canned diet coke. I would download on her about the day of events as a teacher.  We ordered out Chili's  and No. 1 Chinese food often.  One of my favorite memories is when I tried albeit unsuccessfully to teach Cherrie how to make a chicken enchilada casserole. It was just a privilege to spend any time together especially now that she lives 800 miles or so away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little over a year ago, I met someone on a blind date.  At that time, I had no idea that we would become such great friends who share alot in common.  In fact, we share so much in common that at times, it's a little unsettling. We even share one of  the same recurring dreams! However, we have just enough different interests which keeps our relationship interesting. We are definitely kindred spirits. Just recently, Matt volunteered to be my shoulder to cry on. He is a great guy with alot of potential. I wish that he could see that.  He is unique and one of a kind.   His friendship means a great deal to me.  I  consider the day that I met him a "red letter day" although I was unaware of it at the time. I had no idea what he would come to mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that my cousin Chase is someone that I can count on to be honest with me and sometimes to a fault.  Chase is brutually honest.  I know that he will always listen to whatever I need to say even if I do have an annoying tendency to overanalyze situations.  He is one of the most geniune people on the planet.  He reminds me to chill out, lighten up, and have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Moma is one of my best friends. I know that sounds like a cliche, but it is true. I wouldn't have gotten as far as I have gotten in my life without her constant outpouring of support, encourgagement, and love.  She also can and does light a fire under me when I need it.  We should all be so blessed to have a mom as great as mine.  She keeps me level headed and grounded. Today, she kept me from spending too much money on clothes.  I have a tendency to go overboard when it comes to my wardrobe.  I am a clothes connoisseur. My mom and I have similiarities, but I inherited my fashion sense from my paternal grandmother.  I think that my mom and I balance each other out.  It is comforting to know that I can come to her and talk to her about anything even the hard stuff. She is a great listener.  Not only do I love my mom which is just a requirement of being a daughter, but I appreciate what she has brought to my life. I was also very close to my maternal grandmother. She and I had a special bond although she did take my brother's side when we fought. Grandmommie always did her best to understand me and to lend an ear when it was needed.  She tried to teach me to sew. She taught me many things and important lessons.  She read to me from the Bible every night and we said our prayers together.  When I was eleven years old, I talked to my grandmother about becoming a Christian and what it meant. She prayed with me and I asked the Lord into my heart and my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are definitely moments of my life that stand out more than others.  A montage of memories that are never very far from my mind. All of these people that I have mentioned have been apart of those memories in one way or another. One of my first memories was my dad picking me up from day care and giving me a "Strawberry Shortcake" doll.  On my seventh birthday after my party, my mom took me to get my ears pierced. She also got her ears pierced. It was a rite of passage.  I also remember calling my mom from a payphone when I was a teenager to ask her if I could get a second hole.  Her answer was "no".  Sometimes, I miss the days of being under parental authority. Now, I have my second hole. I got my ears pierced for the second time as an adult after visiting my dad at the hospital. I am grateful that his condition seems to be under control. It is in those kind of moments that you realize what is important and everything else just seems to fade away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took gymnastics when I was younger.  In 1989, I received a first place trophy for my routine.  Heather and I used to make up routines and blast loud music in her backyard. I would also try to put on shows every summer for the neighbors. In 1994, we had an icestorm which meant that Heather and I were out of school for a week and a half. It was so great. We had lots of "lazy days" in a row that winter.  I have alot of great memories of being a footloose, and fancy free kid. My Uncle Jack taught me to ride a bike without training wheels. My Uncle Rich taught me how to not be afraid of the water by catching me every time I jumped off the diving board essentially teaching me about trust.  My Aunt Frances encouraged me to express my feelings on paper because she knew that I had trouble expressing them verbally hence years of journaling, and more recently blogging. I had no trouble talking to her every summer when she came home as I kept her company while she smoked a cigarette.  I graduated with highest honors from high school which was quite a feat from being a mediorce student with emotional problems.  The day I graduated from college was surreal. I finally got the sapphire ring that I had been eyeing for a few years from my family.  I even have some fond memories of teaching although I think my former students taught me more than I could ever teach them.  I even came full circle teaching at a school were I had been taught as a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I followed through with one of my childhood dreams. Almost a year ago, I set out on a publishing journey.  It has always been my dream to write a book, but becoming a published author goes beyond my wildest dreams.  I am living proof, that some dreams are within our reach. "I took what was killing me and turned it into something potentially beautiful".  That quote comes from none other than Dawson's Creek.  The character Pacey said that to the character Andie. He was referring to the "True Love" which was his boat that he had named  after Andie.  They had broken up over her indiscretion.  He was proud of his boat because it had been shipwrecked and he spent alot of time working on it, perfecting it, and making it seaworthy.  I am just as proud of my book as Pacey was of his boat.  I literally take that quote to heart, as I believe my manuscript was turned into something "potentially beautiful".   It's intent is to inspire and bring hope to someone who desperately needs a dose of it.  The ability to string together words is an amazing gift.  I am very grateful for the opportunity to express myself in this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given some shout outs to some people because without them the sheer joy of reveling in this accomplishment would not be as rewarding.  It is very rewarding to see something you began all the way through to completion.  They all have a very special place in my heart.  At the end of your life if you could be given an awards ceremony in honor of "special moments" or "red letter days", what would they be?  Over the course of this post, I have shared what I consider to be my special moments and I have mentioned the very special people in my family and my closeknit  network of friends who help make the not so good days bearable and  the great days "red letter worthy". There are not enough words in the English language, or any language for that matter, to express how each individual has enriched my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit one of my favorite movies is "Serendipity".  I can just get lost in that word. It's got a magical quality to it.  In the movie, there are two schools of thought: 1). Life is "chaos personified".  2). Life is not "chaos personified".  Yes, it is true that sometimes more often than not life can be chaotic, but that doesn't mean that our life doesn't have a purpose or a deeper meaning than just breathing in and out and going through the motions.  Katherine Anne Porter once wrote "There seems to be a kind of order in the universe... in the movement of the stars and the turning of the Earth and the changing of the seasons. But human life is  almost pure chaos.  Everyone takes his stance, asserts his own rights and feelings, mistaking the motives of others and his own".  If life is a chaotic, and sometimes it can be it's because we make it so with our complications.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Serendipity" means a fortunate accident.  I don't believe that we are here by chance or that we meet or encounter people by chance. It's all apart of a divine plan.  Although, I do not believe in acccidents or coincidences, I do consider myself very fortunate and blessed to have met the people I have in my life and doubly so for the ones who have been and continue to be constants.  I consider it an honor to have these companions in which to walk down my life's journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 365 days in a year. I have lived about a hundred days of 2006. Some of those days I would consider "red letter" and others could actually have been better. There have already been some bridges burned and lessons learned.  I choose not to focus on life's meaner bites because that would just make me bitter.  I am still hopeful of the days to come and like Matt I hope "the best is yet to come" whether it be in 2006 or along down the line.  The Greeks didn't have memorials for their loved ones. They asked only one question at the end of a man's life, "Did he have passion?"  I hope that people say that I had passion when I am gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will close this post out with my favorite quote from "Serendipity". It agrees with that second school of thought.  Hopefully, you will be able to appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life is not merely a meaningless sequence of accidents and coincidences. But rather a tapestry of events that culiminate into an exquisite and sublime plan".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-114464244721035076?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/114464244721035076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=114464244721035076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/114464244721035076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/114464244721035076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2006/04/red-letter-worthy.html' title='RED LETTER WORTHY'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-114271461959998573</id><published>2006-03-18T11:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T09:27:03.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SHADOW LAND</title><content type='html'>Would you admit it if you were in a dead end relationship? Would you admit it if you were being treated with less care than you deserved? Have you ever lent a sympathetic ear to a friend whose boyfriend/girlfriend unbeknownst to her or him was a lost cause? If you were in that same situation, could you admit your significant other was a loser? Has anyone ever betrayed your trust? Have you given all you had to give to someone when all they could do is take? Has anyone ever drained you mentally, physically and worst yet emotionally?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we put all of our time and energy into a needy person, there is very little left for ourselves. Women especially make the mistake of believing that they can change their boyfriends/husbands by loving them enough. When is enough enough? In order to be in a relationship, we don't have to lose sight of our dreams and our goals. We don't have to lose ourselves in someone else. We don't have to sacrifice our identity, our dignity, our self-worth, or our beliefs.  We don't have to become a shadow of our former selves following around someone that would rather not have us there in the first place. We don't have to be emotional crutches. We don't have to be a doormat. We don't have to be a human punching bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long will we stay in unhealthy relationships? How long will we endure the emotional roller coaster ride? How many times will we get back into the ring just to be knocked out again? Something has to give. We can't win this emotional tug of war.  We deserve better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't make somebody into something he or she clearly isn't.  We haven't discovered that magic trick because it doesn't exist. Women are emotional by nature, that is not to say that men don't cry because they do from time to time.  However, women have been known to cry a river of tears. Women have been known to get upset for no particular reason. It is just a part of our genetic makeup. We look for restoration after our emotional reservoirs have been run dry. We look for an oasis to quench our thirst because we have found ourselves in the middle of a desolate and doomed desert. We get worn down physically because our hearts and minds are so consumed by a person who will never be able to tap into their emotional reservoirs at least not without  outside help by a professional. We long for something from them that they are unable to give us.  They have been wounded by circumstances beyond their control.  Every time we try to get close to them they build walls around themselves and in some cases a moat that is insurmountable. Every time we try to trespass we hit a brick wall. It is a vicious cycle.  It is a pathetic patttern. It is a warning sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red flags go up everywhere instead of the white flag we desperately want this person to wave.  They are incapable of waving the white flag because their hands are tied. They are locked down in chains unaware that a key exists.  They have become comfortable with the pain because along the way they have found unhealthy ways of numbing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we are not careful, those of us who are actually not afraid to feel something will be dragged down with them. We will let a floodgate of emotions overwhelm us to the point that it would be hard to stand on our own two feet. If we are not careful, we too could need emotional crutches. We could realize that we have not been immune to the distance, the ambivalence, and the indifference.  These feelings are infectious.  If we choose, to stay in these type of relationships, we will become infected by negativity and drown in a swamp of hopelessness.  Get out before it's too late.  Don't become another statistic.  Those who allow shadows to be cast on them, unable to see rays of light, become nomads wearily wondering and wandering in their own self-inflicted shadow land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a great song by Ryan Adams that conveys beautifully the mind set of these people who have allowed their spirits to be broken and who have allowed their emotional reservoirs to be run dry.  Hopefully, you can't relate to it. The song is called "The Shadowlands".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God please, bring the rain&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, and bring it soon&lt;br /&gt;Let it flood right through the houses&lt;br /&gt;Into Judy's room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a father on amphetamines&lt;br /&gt;Her mother hides the pearls&lt;br /&gt;Reach out into the darkness&lt;br /&gt;And find my little girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause she's angry like a salesman&lt;br /&gt;That couldn't make a sale&lt;br /&gt;Threw her wedding ring in the sewer&lt;br /&gt;And damned them all to hell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please led her to the mountain&lt;br /&gt;That you fashioned out of sand&lt;br /&gt;While the roaches climb the walls&lt;br /&gt;From the hotel where he calls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people never find a love&lt;br /&gt;Most people never find a love&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you just can be a man&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you just can be a man&lt;br /&gt;When you are living in the darkness&lt;br /&gt;Of the shadow lands&lt;br /&gt;The shadow lands&lt;br /&gt;The shadow lands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script language="javascript" src="http://media.fastclick.net/w/get.media?sid=18919&amp;m=6&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;tp=8&amp;d=j&amp;amp;t=s"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-114271461959998573?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/114271461959998573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=114271461959998573&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/114271461959998573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/114271461959998573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2006/03/shadow-land.html' title='SHADOW LAND'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-114090523207371367</id><published>2006-02-25T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T09:30:26.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BLUE SKY DAYS</title><content type='html'>Originally written on February 16, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been so emotional lately. I feel like I need to be recharged and refreshed. Outside of being a girl, I am not sure what I am so emotional about these days. Through my melancholy, I thought about the changing seasons. We are currently in the thick of winter at least where I live. We got our first real snowfall last week. It was up to three inches. It seems to snow alot in February for some reason. We have actually had a relatively warm winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introspectively, I started thinking about the changes that take place during this time of the year. The trees start to lose their leaves and then they are bare. They are vunerable and brittle eagerly awaiting a transformation. In the winter, the ground is blanketed in mist, dew, snow, and sometimes even sleet and ice. It takes a rough beating, but at the same time it is covered and protected as the earth falls into deep slumber much like bears hibrate in the winter. The earth is only awakened by the warmth of the sunshine as it shines brightly from the sky to the cold dark earth beneath it. The sun reminds the earth of what is ahead: luscious green grass, showers, color, flowers, and beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does winter and the changing seasons have to do with my emotional state? Winter is the earth's opportunity to rid itself of impuritites. It's a catharsis for the soul. It is a time of cleansing and healing, of letting go and moving on. Winter is a season of tears. Just like the trees shed their leaves in the winter the heart rids itself of it's emotional baggage and past hurts. I am not saying that winter is the only time you should cry. I am not saying that at all. It's just a metaphor and it's something that I have been thinking about hence this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be ashamed to cry. Embrace it. Keeping our feelings trapped inside of us is very unhealthy. We have a right to feel the way that we feel; however, we all are responsible for our reactions. Don't be afraid to feel. Don't be afraid to breakdown. Cry your eyes out if you have to. It's even okay to cry for no reason. Crying doesn't mean that we are weak and pathetic. It actually means just the opposite that we are strong and purposeful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like the earth that is blanketed in the winter, we have a shield of protection. Just like the earth excitedly expects beauty, our hearts hope. We know that better days are ahead if we work through our fears and insecurities. Our troubled minds and hearts will find peace. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. There is a rainbow after the storm. Remember the song, "The Rose"? "Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snow lies a seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes a rose".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you, but I want to get my crying fits out before the earth embraces beauty once again. And the season changes once again from winter to spring. Spring is a metaphor for a heart that is not afraid to feel to awaken and open up embracing the beauty all around it. We must drudge through the dark and the dreary before we can bask in the sun, look up and see the big puffy white clouds, and breathe fresh air. Make time to smell the roses and soak up the beauty around you this spring. I can't wait to feel like a schoolgirl in the springtime. I am grateful for all the seasons, but spring is the "la piece de la resistance". Spring is God's masterpiece. I know that the groundhog saw his shadow which means six more weeks of winter. Pretty soon though, it will be time to dry the tears from my eyes. Spring gives us all something to look forward to. Right now, what I am looking most forward to is basking in the happiness of the blue sky days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-114090523207371367?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/114090523207371367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=114090523207371367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/114090523207371367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/114090523207371367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2006/02/blue-sky-days.html' title='BLUE SKY DAYS'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-113899732639969979</id><published>2006-02-03T11:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T09:29:11.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HEART ON MY SLEEVE</title><content type='html'>I must admit as much as I like to write, sometimes the ideas don't always flow as easily as other times. There are times that I write and draw from life experiences and others when I write from more general perspectives. A fellow blogger and a great friend of mine and I often times discuss our creativity or the lack thereof  (the down times when we can't quite get our creative energy to flow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, a tiny light bulb goes off over my head like in a Saturday morning cartoon. I have an idea and then my mind starts churning as the "post" gestates. I will not reveal my process, but I am sure that all serious writers have one. I know that I do. The "post" has been gestating for awhile and now it is time to translate what is in my head onto paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever read Ann Brashares "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" series? It's really not a teeny-bopper book like most of you think it is. It reaches all ages. I really like the whole idea behind it. It was written with so much heart. If you haven't read the book, then you have no idea what I am talking about. So let me clue you in. Basically, the characters of the book consist of four girls Lena, Tibby, Bridget, and Carmen who have been friends since birth. The plot is that the girls find themselves going off in different directions over the summer: Greece, Mexico, South Carolina, and one gets left behind taking on a summer job. Before leaving, these girls go shopping to spend some time together. They find a pair of jeans in a thrift shop that magically fits all of them as differently portioned as they are. They decide to make a pact and some rules that the jeans will be shipped back and forth between them so that they will feel closer to each other even though miles and miles maybe separating them. Unexpectedly, the jeans give these girls comfort and courage. It is a little far fetched, but the idea is very appealing that a pair of thrift store pants can hold magic and memories within them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another inspiration for this post, came from none other than my favorite television show "One Tree Hill", the hit series on the WB. There was a very sweet scene between Haley and Nathan, a teenaged married couple. She was wearing what seemed to be an ordinary choclate brown tunic shirt, a pair of boot cut denim jeans, and a pair of boots; however, this clothing wasn't something out of the ordinary for her husband Nathan. The dialogue between them was something like this: Nathan said to Haley: "Those jeans are the jeans that you wore that day that we fell asleep in the park. Those shoes are the shoes that you wore that day we spent five hours at the DMV waiting to get your license with your new last name".Haley to Nathan: "What else do you remember?" Nathan to Haley: " I remember a lot more than you think. You wore that shirt sitting on the sofa one morning playing a Beattles song on your guitar. The sunlight came in and framed your face so perfectly". Sigh. Pardon me while I swoon. It was a little unrealistic that Nathan remembered those things, but it made for one sweet scene between the formerly estranged married couple. His memories helped bring them one step closer to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that clothing could have such power over our emotions? One of my fondest memories of my childhood best friend who continues to be my best friend to this day is when we were teenagers living in the same neighborhood and once or twice a week or maybe even more we would call each other up on the phone and tell the other what piece of clothing we wanted to borrow. "Meet me half way", we would say. We would take off running through this grassy field in the dark to exchange clothes. Looking back, part of the clothes swapping probably had to do with us feeling close to each other subsciously because we did attend different schools and our schedules were very different. Some of the best times, that I remember in my life happened while wearing some piece of my best friend's wardrobe. I can't believe that at the end of next month, my best friend since I have known for almost fifteen years is going to have a baby. I can only hope that her little girl will find a great friendship like I have with her mother. As a teenager, she just might be meeting her best friend half way to share clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some articles of clothing that I can't bare to part with because they hold such sentimental value. I have a snake skinned leather jacket that I have had for years that I can't get rid of because I wore that jacket on a very special date with a very special guy. That jacket evokes so many memories. There is a certain black and hot pink top and a chocolate brown lacey top that I am not going to part with anytime soon because I was wearing them on some dates with a guy that I met recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many of you girls have parted with your prom dress or cheerleading uniform? How many of you guys have gotten rid of your football jersey, your favorite baseball cap, or your letterman's jacket? Chances are that you haven't because these pieces of clothing mean something to you and have wrapped up in them days gone by that you never want to forget. The sweetest days that will help you get through some of the bitter ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am very sentimental. I have never pretended not to be. I cry often. I think about the past every so often. I am a thinker and I am very introspective. I wear certain colors to evoke different moods. There are clothes that I don't wear anymore, but can't get rid of because they are reminders of the best times in my life. They remind me of a simpler time before life got so incredibly complicated. Or is it us that cause the complications? I cherish some aspects of my clothing like a tourist treasures souvenirs. It is that important to me to maintain some semblance of who I used to be. You have to know who you used to be, to determine who you are today, and to achieve who you want to be in the future. You could call me sentimental. Just like I enjoying listening to certain music because it evokes certain emotions, and just like I go through picture albums to remind me of good times, I like to go through my closet and take a trip down memory lane. At the end of the day, when it is just me alone with my thoughts, I am just a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-113899732639969979?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/113899732639969979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=113899732639969979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113899732639969979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113899732639969979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2006/02/heart-on-my-sleeve.html' title='HEART ON MY SLEEVE'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-113648183651140530</id><published>2006-01-05T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T15:25:31.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE WEDNESDAY RULE</title><content type='html'>Often times, unwritten rules can have more weight than the written ones.  The rules that are understood seem to be followed more closely than the rules that have been carefully crafted. There should be a guide book for us girls when we are involved with the opposite sex.  There have been so many books written on the relationships between men and women that it is mind boggling. Which literature should we pay attention to? And which literature should line the bottom of a bird cage?  It really is sickening the lengths that people will go to take advantage of the vunerability and insecurities of women. That having been said, there are also those people who go out of their way to encourage the male ego and capitalize on their fear of failure. No wonder relationships are doomed before they even get started. What is wrong with trusting our gut instinct?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you grew up in the 80's and early 90's, then more than likely one of the cardinal rules of your household was "Don't call boys". "Calling boys" makes them lazy.  Initiation was the role they were meant to play. When we take the reigns so to speak, we are left wondering if I had just waited, would he have made a move. If your guy is like most, he will take his precious and sweet time about getting in touch with you. Don't ask me why because I do not have the answer.  And why do girls overanalyze? Why are men and women so different? The only answer that I have for those questions is that God designed them that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys definitely play games to see just how long our threshold for torture will last.  Girls play games as well, but only the girls that believe that in order to survive in a man's world we have to think and act like men, which by the way could not be any further from the truth. Girls test guys to see their true colors and misguidedly determine their self worth.  Does this guy really like me or is he just playing games?  Will he come through for me? Am I asking too much?  These are questions that we have all asked ourselves girls, whether we were in a relationship or on the cusp of one. One way we measure whether or not a guy is interested is by "the Wednesday rule".  We have all been guilty of waiting for that phone to ring or checking our inbox incessantly, but if he hasn't called by Wednesday then he doesn't care enough. I don't know that guys are even aware that this rule exists after all 99.9% of them are completely clueless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, it is a rule that the female species lives by.  We might be testing them, but we are limiting ourselves or maybe we just don't want to waste our time.  After all, we all have biological clocks and they are ticking especially if you grew up in the aforementioned era. So will we settle for less than what we deserve?   Will this vicious cycle ever stop turning? Not if we continue to listen to the mindless and heartless people who take advantage of the human condition.  Guys will still play with our emotions.  They will still test the waters. Girls will still measure themselves against impossible standards. We will still measure our worth by what he isn't saying or doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We really should stop determining our self worth by whether or not guys break these rules or pass our tests.  We are so much better than that.  We were not made for that purpose. In the song "Shimmer" by Shawn Mullins he says "We were born to shimmer, born to shine, born to radiant". "Born to live, born to love, but they will teach us how to hate".  We were not meant to live in the shadow of men and of this world.  Phillipians 2:14-15 says "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe".  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not fair to evoke such unwritten rules on men anymore than it is fair for men to mess with the fragile emotions of women. There are two good books out there that will turn all this pyscho babble on its head.  "Wild at Heart" was written for men by John Eldredge the other Captivating was written for women by John Eldredge and his wife Stasi.  Until we can break free of this bondage it will continue to hold us down.  Instead of being captivating we will just be held captive by a worldly standard of what we should be; therefore, unable to see who we truly are through the eyes of our Maker. We will continue to be disillusioned. We will be living a lie.  We will continue to live by impossible standards dictated by unwritten rules that are not easily breakable.  We will continue to allow ourselves to be measured by worldly standards such as "the Wednesday rule".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-113648183651140530?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/113648183651140530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=113648183651140530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113648183651140530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113648183651140530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2006/01/wednesday-rule.html' title='THE WEDNESDAY RULE'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-113388826177704195</id><published>2005-12-06T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T15:02:58.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"TO BE OR NOT TO BE?"</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I went to see the movie, "Just Friends" starring Ryan Reynolds. I think he looks a little bit like Ben Affleck, but in a goofy sort of way. He plays this guy who in high school is anything but cool or popular. His best friend, however is the most popular girl in school. After high school, he leaves New Jersey and winds up in L.A. where he has lost over a hundred pounds or more and the sweet sensitivity that he had as a teenage boy. He is quite the player who never lets his heart get involved. Through a job responsibility, he ends up right where he started and runs back into the girl that made his heart go pitter patter. He thinks that his new look and smooth moves will win her over, but what he doesn't realize is that she misses the boy that he used to be. Just like a guy, he makes every wrong turn and bad decision until it finally hits him right between the eyes to just be himself-no smooth talk or moves required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us have had to suffer through the "Just Friends" speech. The truth is that men and women can't just be friends in the true meaning of the word. At least one person in this friendship sees the other person a little differently and secretly hopes for more. I love the speech that Harry gives Sally in "When Harry Met Sally". He says basically that men and women can't be friends. I know that some of you will disagree with me on this point. You may have a "girl friend" or a "guy friend" with whom you have a platonic relationship, but chances are one of you has feelings for the other. You are just beyond scared to admit those feelings on the off chance that the person you have feelings for doesn't have the same feelings for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Friendship" between men and women is comfortable and safe. There are no commitments and no guarantees. In a platonic relationship, what you see is what you get. There are no mind games and no need to impress. It sounds pretty good unless there are feelings involved and the "no mess" friendship because a "relationship" would be way too messy becomes a secret and silent torture. When he brushes up against you or she holds your hand it isn't just physical contact it becomes emotional and maybe you blush because you have a secret crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you find yourself right smack dab in the middle of the "friend zone" with this person and realize this is not what you signed up for at all. There is no escape unless someone else catches your eye and instead of striking up a "friendship" with this person you absolutely refuse to get caught in the "friend zone" again. It's an endless cycle until one of you has the courage to speak up and say "Hey I like you and not just in a friendly kind of way". "My feelings go beyond that". "I don't know about you, but I really what to see where this thing can go". "Are you willing to take a chance with me?" That's really all it takes, but saying those words can be so much harder than getting water from the moon. Maybe it will take some creativity on your part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you to go see "Just Friends" with your "friend" whom you wish could be your significant other or rent "When Harry Met Sally" and then take the opportunity to tell the person how you feel. You never know that person may have feelings for you too and may be relieved that you stepped up to the plate first. He or she may even admire your bravery and courage. It definitely will give the person something to think about. Life is too short to torture yourself. Remember the immortal words of William Shakespeare in the play "Hamlet" "To be or not to be, that is the question". To be or not to be friends? Now that is the ultimate question and you and your "so called friend" deserve an answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-113388826177704195?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/113388826177704195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=113388826177704195&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113388826177704195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113388826177704195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/12/to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='&quot;TO BE OR NOT TO BE?&quot;'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-113056165905451271</id><published>2005-10-28T23:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T22:21:53.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A WARM EMBRACE</title><content type='html'>Most of my childhood memories I think back on fondly. There is this one memory inparticular that I keep coming back to because it encompasses so many of the dreams I had as a child that now have been carried over into adulthood. My stepsister Angela and I loved to perform. We would pick out music, press record and start singing to the top of our lungs. There is this one song that to this day still rings in my ears. I believe the name of the song is "Where the Boys Are". I don't know who wrote the song, but I remember the lyrics. I wonder just what I was thinking about when I sang this song along side of Angela. I know I had no idea what I was singing about or as an adult just how profound the words would be to me. We sang this song long before we were influenced by shallow and superficial images and long before we lusted after bulging biceps or hot bods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a time when we first experienced our hearts beating a little faster when in close proximity to the object of our affection. A time when our worst fear was sweaty palms or getting tongue tied from being so nervous. A time when our cheeks flushed at the mere mention of our crush's name. A time when we began to experience all these new and strange feelings for the very first time. We all remember our first crush. I am proud to say that my first crush was Michael J. Fox who is best known as "Alex P. Keaton" from Family Ties back in the Eighties. There is no telling how many times I have watched Michael J. Fox play "Scott Howard" in "Teen Wolf". A time when we held the belief that one day Prince Charming would ride in on a white knight. After all Cinderella said, "a dream is a wish your heart makes". Down deep inside of every woman lives the little girl we once were that longs to be that fairytale princess and expects the "happily ever after" story book ending. It's just how we were made as the old saying goes of "sugar and spice and everything nice".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I remember this song I sang so long ago is because it's still what I long for. In the long run, good looks are overrated. Most of the time good looking guys are conceited at best and womanizers at worst. Eventually the good looks fade away and what you are left with is a person who is a shallow and frustrated has been that only had to offer an attractive face and a muscular physique. In the end, these physical attributes add up to not much of anything. Kindness is the key. Passion plays a part in the story, but when your old and gray tenderness will win out everytime. So as I wait for the man of my dreams, I will keep in mind and take to heart the words of this song that within it's bars hold immeasurable value. At the end of the day, when I come in out of the cold, all I really want at the end of my reach is two arms wrapped around me in a warm embrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where the Boys Are"&lt;br /&gt;Someone waits for Me&lt;br /&gt;A smiling face&lt;br /&gt;A warm embrace&lt;br /&gt;Two arms to hold me tenderly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the Boys Are&lt;br /&gt;Someone waits for me&lt;br /&gt;Where the boys are&lt;br /&gt;Where the boys are&lt;br /&gt;Where the boys are&lt;br /&gt;Someone waits for me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-113056165905451271?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/113056165905451271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=113056165905451271&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113056165905451271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/113056165905451271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/10/warm-embrace.html' title='A WARM EMBRACE'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112848326942358644</id><published>2005-10-04T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T20:35:38.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ANSWERS WITHIN</title><content type='html'>A guy friend of mine asked me a very interesting and complex question last night. We were discussing song lyrics and poetry. He asked me "Why do we like that kind of stuff?" Why does it appeal to us? I am going to attempt an answer. It's a complex question with many answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women long for romance. Men long to be romantic. Women look for answers to burning questions about themselves within "the bars of a rhyme" such as "Am I beautiful?" "Am I worthy of love?" "Do I have what it takes?" Our biggest fear is being abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, men look to these song writers and poets for inspiration because a man's biggest fear is failure. Men secretly desire to be more open about matters of the heart. Women desire for men to be more open about love. Women desire to be rescued from our insecurites and men desire to rescue us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of taking risks and expressing how we feel, we hide behind the insights of others telling ourselves that that particular songwriter or poet says it a lot better than I could ever say it. We depend on songs to evoke emotions within us that stay dormat most of the time because we try so hard not to feel for fear of feeling anything. We have become comfortably numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like this romantic prose because it allows us to feel again. It provides an escape hatch from this cruel world. It transports us into a safe haven where we can get back in touch with that part of us that is not afraid to dream, make wishes, and anticipate happy endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the tiny place in our hearts that has not been jaded by cruel intentions or rejection and is not afraid to have a little faith and trust in someone. It's a place in our hearts that is not afraid to live or to love and be loved. It is a state of letting emotions run free and lifting spirits. It's like taking a good mood pill and immediately feeling better about life and love. It allows us to relate and empathize with each other realizing that we are not alone in the world. After all, "No man is an island". We all need to get in touch with our emotions. We all desire to see poetry in motion. We are all looking for the answers within.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112848326942358644?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112848326942358644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112848326942358644&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112848326942358644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112848326942358644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/10/answers-within.html' title='THE ANSWERS WITHIN'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112681467699622275</id><published>2005-09-15T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T20:53:29.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE FIFTH WHEEL</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote id="9798c966"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 596px; height: 556px;" id="HB_Mail_Container" unselectable="on" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" width="100%" height="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" unselectable="off" background="" height="250" valign="top" width="100%"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ah yet another metaphor. Have you ever felt useless and unproductive? You feel like a spare tire neatly tucked away in the trunk of car never acknowledged or even missed until the car hits a bump in the road. After all a car operates on only four wheels. The spare tire doesn't get to contribute to the quality of the car nor take pleasure in the adventure. It is the back up plan. The runner up that gets the responsibility when one of the other tires fails to carried out its duties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is a terrible feeling to feel like a spare tire, easily replaceable. However I wouldn't want to be the steering wheel which is manipulated into going in the direction the driver wants it to go although the steering wheel is of vital importance to the functioning of the car. Maybe it would be better to be the ignition that pumps the car up and brings it to life or the accelerator that pushes the car forward and gives it speed. The brakes also have a very important role. They protect the passengers of the car by allowing them to stop at stop signs and red lights keeping them out of harm's way. The air bag cushions protect blows to the head. The seat belt safely fastens in passengers and guards them against unexpected and spontaneous stops. Maybe I would rather be a sun roof allowing in fresh air, sunshine, and even a sense of adventure. I would rather be anything than the spare tire, feeling useless and unproductive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We all need to feel special. We need to be made to feel like the cream of the crop. The essential ingredient in a recipe that spices things up. We need to feel like the cherry on the top of an icecream sundae or the silver lining around a dark rain cloud. We need to feel wanted, missed, appreciated, affirmed, respected, and validated. We also need to treat others with that same respect and give our undivided attention when it is needed whether we are talking to the person face to face or by other technological means. I am sure that in all our lives we have been made to feel less than who and what we are either intentionally or unintentionally. We have all felt left out and out of the loop at one time or another. If you have ever felt like an outsider, the punch line to a joke or the fifth wheel, you are not alone. Trust me I know exactly how you feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 1pt;" unselectable="on" height="1"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112681467699622275?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112681467699622275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112681467699622275&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112681467699622275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112681467699622275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/09/fifth-wheel.html' title='THE FIFTH WHEEL'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112508332120557963</id><published>2005-08-26T02:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-17T10:17:17.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"GOODBYE TO THE GONDOLAS"</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" unselectable="on" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" height="100%" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" width="100%" height="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" unselectable="off" background="" height="250" valign="top" width="100%"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here lately I have been using metaphors to describe events and situations in my life. "Goodbye to the Gondolas" is yet another metaphor. "Goodbye" means goodbye, but if you have ever had to say this to anyone physically or emotionally, you know that it is not that cut and dry. "Gondolas is my metaphor for "romantic fantasies" or "lost love". Have you ever been in love? It's like a hot air balloon ride soaring through the clouds; higher and higher watching the world beneath you or not paying much attention to the world at all. For me it was like an out of body experience yet feeling every glance, every touch, and every heartbeat just the same. What if you are experiencing all of this for the very first time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens then when the air gets taken out of your balloon? You start to plummet towards the earth at a mind boggling pace. You land with a thud. You are left all alone curled into a ball desperately trying to put the pieces of your broken heart back together. Then you wait impatiently for the day when your heart will open again. The aftermath of a breakup is one of the hardest hits to endure and the effects are long lasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when you finally manage to stand up and get your footing; the ground feels solid enough. "Wham!" You are hit with the "boomerang effect". All of the feelings that you have tried so hard to push down inside of you come rising to the surface. You start to ride on these emotions forgetting the cardinal rule that "Emotions can be your biggest enemy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when that person pours his or her heart out to you about a broken relationship? You have experienced the same heartache because this was the very person to inflict the almost unbearable pain on you. You desperately what to stop his or her pain and suddenly the pain that you felt gets pushed aside. You view it as almost insignificant because nothing else matters than the person that you love has miracously come back into your life. We all have that place, a harbor in our hearts that nurses the romantic fantasy that "lost love" will be found again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when you find out the person that you desire most in the world wanted you back?  What happens when you lay it all on the line? You tell this person how you feel. No holes  are left barred. You open yourself up so nakedly. You risk it all. Then that person chooses a new relationship over the old one because it has lost its newness and appeal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when this person breaks your trust? This person is one of the few people you trust in the world. What happens when this person you loved, trusted, and respected turns out to be nothing more than a coward? He can't connect his heart to his head. He can't face you and suddenly breaks off all communication. For the first time, you realize that this person you loved and thought you knew isn't the same. The person is not the person you thought he or she was at all.  Your heart gets shredded again by the only person you wanted to give it to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens when there seems to be a dark endless tunnel? The bottom has fallen out of your world or at least it feels that way. You are on this downward spiral until you hit rock bottom. You choose to wallow in this dark, cold, and lonely place until the tears stop falling and your heart stops aching. You are not living, you're simply going through the motions searching for answers to unanswered questions. Sometimes the people that we love come back and sometimes they don't. Sometimes we get answers to our burning questions and sometimes we do not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you look up towards the sky and see the sunlight peeking through the clouds warming you up in this dark, cold, and lonely place that you ultimately have created for yourself. If you are anything like me you look towards Heaven for help and comfort. You realize that you have not been alone after all. You can breathe again without feeling pain in the pit of your stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isaiah 61:1-2 "He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness the prisoners to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the answer to all of these pondering questions?  The only answer there ever could be is "Letting Go".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Goodbye to the Gondolas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Goodbye to the hopes and dreams wrapped up in this guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;When I looked up to the sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I uncovered my tear stained face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I realized I was being sheltered by His loving embrace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;And guarded by His Amazing Grace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For when I began to let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Only then could He show&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His unfailing love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I knew that I was being watched from above&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From this heartbreaking experience &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I began to grow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I could begin to rest even though&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On life's journey I will be put to the test&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;To seek for my life His utmost best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the unanswered questions that invaded my mind will cease&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;There only will I be able to find His indescribable peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td unselectable="on"  height="1" style="font-size:1pt;"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo" align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112508332120557963?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112508332120557963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112508332120557963&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112508332120557963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112508332120557963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/08/goodbye-to-gondolas.html' title='&quot;GOODBYE TO THE GONDOLAS&quot;'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112431043478126533</id><published>2005-08-17T11:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T19:43:49.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A to Z</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote id="dec6cf68"&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" unselectable="on" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" height="100%" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" width="100%" height="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" unselectable="off" background="" height="250" valign="top" width="100%"&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just found out that my childhood friend is expecting a baby the end of March. It is a very exciting time in her life and I am honored to share in the wonder of this new experience. Nothing makes me think about the meaning of it all more than the infinite circle of life. There is nothing like the urgency of a new generation nipping at your heels. All of sudden I want to be this sage and impart wisdom. It's a little scary, but I will do my best as this baby's surrogate aunt. In order to impart wisdom which is a huge responsibility, I must share the benefits of my own experiences and my shared experiences with the baby's Mom. Words of wisdom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;To: Baby Girl&lt;br /&gt;1. Cry to get what you want (at first)&lt;br /&gt;2. Get a lot of sleep (You need you're beauty rest) i.e. I will read you fairytales&lt;br /&gt;3. Sharing is a good thing contrary to popular belief.&lt;br /&gt;4. Look both ways before crossing the street ( even though you have the right of way)&lt;br /&gt;5. Never challenge a boy no matter how cute to a bike race. ( It can only end badly)&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't call boys! (or write sappy love letters no matter how much you make like him)&lt;br /&gt;7. The trick is to look like you are not wearing any make up at all (stay away from black eyeliner for as long as possible)&lt;br /&gt;8. Don't ever slap a guy no matter how big a jerk he is. R-E-S-P-E-C-T&lt;br /&gt;9. Don't ever put peroxide or any other unnatural agent in your hair.&lt;br /&gt;10. Obey your parents (This one is very important!)&lt;br /&gt;11. Guard your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Proverbs 4:23 "Above all else guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;12. Beauty comes from the inside ( Develop a healthy self-image)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Psalm 45:11 "The king is enthralled with your beauty"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;To Baby Boy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cry to get what you want (at first)&lt;br /&gt;2. Get as much sleep as possible (Even handsome princes should sleep once in a while.)&lt;br /&gt;3. Sharing is a good thing contrary to popular belief.&lt;br /&gt;4. Look both ways before crossing the street especially if you are playing "Chicken" with the&lt;br /&gt;guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Proverbs 10:1 "A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son grief to his mother".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. &lt;/strong&gt;Let the girls WIN!&lt;br /&gt;6. Wipe your muddy feet.&lt;br /&gt;7. Leave the toliet seat down.&lt;br /&gt;8. Never tell a girl that she is fat even if it's true.&lt;br /&gt;9. Don't ask a girl how much she weighs (This just isn't a good idea.)&lt;br /&gt;10. Pull out chairs and open doors.&lt;br /&gt;11. Good guys finish last is a myth.&lt;br /&gt;12. Obey your parents (This one is important!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Ephesians 6:1 "Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Although I don't have any children of my own. I am starting to see how the process works. When the time comes I will just pass on what I have learned from my parents to my kids. I will pass on everything from A to Z. (i.e. the above mentioned is just "LMNOP"). For now I will enjoy being an occasional caregiver. Like a fine wine I will get better with time. I think that parenthood is making it up as you go. Thank goodness I have had a wonderful example. "A to Z" is a metaphor for life and I believe the process starts over when you become a parent; back at the beginning experiencing all the ups and downs of life vicariously through your kids. Is it any wonder that babies put everything in perspective? A baby is a miracle. It makes absolute and perfect sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 Timothy 3:16 "All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Proverbs 3:5-6 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge him, and he wil make your paths straight." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hebrews 4:16 "Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deuteronomy 6:5 "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To Unborn Child:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dream that started in a young girl's heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Scribbling down names while sitting in a church pew&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The seed has been planted &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's time to grow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And soon your mother will begin to show&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;An ever present healthy glow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dream that began so long ago&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can only be realized when you are due&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then you will begin this wonderful journey called life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where you will experience days filled with joy, uncertainty&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And sometimes strife&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hope that I am close by for a few&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And as much as I love your mother&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am sure I will love you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am pretty sure I already do&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;For whether you are born day or night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am sure your parents will love you at first sight&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And whether you be a girl or a boy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are sure to fill the hearts of the ones around you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With unspeakable joy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;No matter what your name will be from A to Z &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You will be one hundred percent loved &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Especially by the One above&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="font-size: 1pt;" unselectable="on" height="1"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112431043478126533?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112431043478126533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112431043478126533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112431043478126533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112431043478126533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/08/to-z_17.html' title='A to Z'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112347044385917015</id><published>2005-08-07T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T08:44:59.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HUMBLE PIE</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;(This One's for the Guys)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few blogs ago, I wrote how I guy Max disappointed me. It is not now nor will it ever be my intention to bash men. I just knew that there were girls out there who could understand my frustration having been in a similar situation at one time or another themselves. It is a fact of life that the people we care about and care about us will inevitably disappoint us from time to time. However, I have recently realized that these same people can surprise us in the most unexpected ways. This guy that hurt my feelings and disappointed me, admitted that he was wrong and has humbly asked for my forgiveness. That doesn't happen too often and when it does happen you should sit up and take notice. I know I did. When a person is big enough to admit that he or she is wrong, it shows that the person has character. By the same token, when you have wronged a person you should be a big enough person to admit it.&lt;br /&gt;Since I am writing this blog for the guys I will turn my attention towards them. Don't misunderstand me guys, girls can screw up too. We are not innocent. Well everyone is innocent until proven guilty, but I digress. What I am trying to say is that most of the time if you are sorry enough and strip yourself of your macho bravado you will find that most girls will give you a second chance whether you call up a radio station to make a song dedication, make her a romantic candle light dinner, call a florist, or publicly admit that you are wrong on the internet. Everyone deserves a second chance. Let me let you guys in on a little secret. We girls really don't require that much, but if we respect ourselves then we will demand it of you. After all, at the end of the day all we have is how we have treated others. So the next time you screw up and do something you think is unforgiveable, ask yourself if someone wronged me in this way what would I want them to do to show me they care. You might just be surprised at that person's ability to forgive. The next time someone extends the olive branch don't be too proud to reach out and grab it. Pride comes before the fall. Sit down with that person, grab a fork and indulge in some humble pie. It's only my humble opinion. That's my advice. You can take it or leave it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112347044385917015?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112347044385917015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112347044385917015&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112347044385917015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112347044385917015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/08/humble-pie.html' title='HUMBLE PIE'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112226473028677044</id><published>2005-07-24T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T21:12:10.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Give me a CAPITAL "V"</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;There are few things in life that unite us all.  I am convinced that one of those unifications is the desire to be validated.  To know someone out there cares about you, loves you, respects you, trusts you and understands you.  This need to be validated can come in all sorts of different packages big or small.  It feels good when your boss pats you on the back and says" Good Job" or "That was a job well done".  Or when a baby gets his or her needs met because of you.  Or you are appreciated on any level for the things you do whether it be a spouse, a family member, or a significant other that  says or makes a gesture of thankfulness.  Just the other day a very good friend of mine commented on one of my posts and understood where I was coming from.  That email from my friend was all it took to make me feel validated. To feel like I was worth something and contributing to this world in some small way by letting my voice be heard. &lt;br /&gt;We all have that desire for validation it doesn't matter if you have climbed up the corporate ladder or you are on the bottom rung.  You still want and need to be validated.  I suppose the most important aspect of validation comes from a crush, a significant other, or a spouse.  When the affection you have for someone is returned there is no greater validation on this Earth. The point of this post is to respect other people and their feelings.  Remember the old adage that still rings true "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112226473028677044?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112226473028677044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112226473028677044&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112226473028677044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112226473028677044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/07/give-me-capital-v.html' title='Give me a CAPITAL &quot;V&quot;'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112196223462255680</id><published>2005-07-21T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T09:10:34.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NOW AND THEN</title><content type='html'>The summer season always puts me in a nostalgic mood.  Smell is the sense that has the strongest compacity for recall.  If I close my eyes and concentrate,  I can smell clorine.  For me clorine is a very comforting smell.  It brings up a hundred different memories inside of me.  I recall the carefree days of summer fondly and even now I feel more like a kid than during any other season with the exception of Christmas in the wintertime.&lt;br /&gt;After all it was in the summer that I learned to jump off the diving board into my uncle's arms and consciously thought about trust for the first time.  It was in the clorine water that gravity didn't seem to matter when I could float on top of it all and feel a true sense of freedom.  The sun mixed with water can result in a pretty nasty sunburn, but it also produces a magical quality.&lt;br /&gt;It's not everyday that a girl learns that she is going to be a big sister for the first time.  My Daddy informed me that my stepmother was pregnant and then I raced off to jump in the pool.  It was safe in there and maybe subconsciously I knew the birth of my little brother would force me to grow up and I wanted to savor every last minute of my right to be a child.&lt;br /&gt;Just the other day my best friend Heather and I were at the pool.  The summer really seems to bring out the kids in us.  Now we get in the water when the heat becomes unbearable sitting in our lounges laying out.  We gracefully enter the water by the steps on the shallow end of the pool complaining about the temperature of the water and forgetting the days when we made ripple waves doing cannonballs.  Our hair is all pulled up on the top of our heads so as not to get clorine in our hair which would diminish its unnatural color, and we wade about all grown up.  The days of doing handstands, front, and back flips have long since gone.  Suddenly, a bumble bee starts buzzing around Heather's head.  She swats at it in an attempt to make it flea, but its no use.  It's like Heather decided to wash her hair in honey.  The bee kept circling around her head.  She was screaming like a little girl and then she ducked under the water.  She emerged from the water, her hair all dishevled.  I started laughing hysterically inspite of myself.  I guess you just had to be there, but it was a hilarious sight.  Then the bee came back for round two and decided to take us both on.  Our hands went straight up in unison fending off the bee.  We both ducked under water as we screamed like scaredy cats.  When we surfaced I exclaimed "that was a little girl moment".  We couldn't stop laughing at being so juvenile and jovial.  It was a great moment.  Another great memory to tuck away with the millions of memories that can only be made in the summertime.  The greatest part is that I shared yet another memory with my best friend.  I think about all the good times I have experienced as a child especially in the summertime every now and then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112196223462255680?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112196223462255680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112196223462255680&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112196223462255680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112196223462255680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/07/now-and-then.html' title='NOW AND THEN'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112061591041675454</id><published>2005-07-05T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T08:41:45.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPINESS</title><content type='html'>Many intellectuals such as poets, literary geniuses, and even scientists have tried to define love over the years. Happiness is yet another concept that is hard to define. Think for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;What makes you happy? The color yellow is supposed to elicit the emotion depending on what mood you are in. Exercise releases endorphins that have been scientifically proven to make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contentment is another word associated with happiness. If you are content does that mean that you are happy? Contentment means that you are satisfied with the status quo. You may not have everything you want in life, but you are content with what you have at this point in time, but it does not necessarily mean that you are happy. There are some people that spend a lifetime trying to achieve happiness. Others believe that it is unattainable so why try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Society is under the impression that materialism can make you happy. The same rule applies for happiness as it does for love. Money can't buy it. So what can make us happy? It seems to me that people look at happiness as a goal for their lives when happiness shouldn't be a goal. The goals that you set for yourself and achieve can make you happy, but happiness really isn't an achievement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder there are so many unhappy people including myself in the world we've been looking at happiness through a dim bulb when we should be seeing it through the brightest light. Happiness unlike love is just within our reach. Love comes to us freely as a gift. On the other hand, happiness is a decision we make for ourselves. Do you want to be happy or unhappy? The choice is clearly yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112061591041675454?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112061591041675454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112061591041675454&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112061591041675454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112061591041675454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/07/happiness.html' title='HAPPINESS'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-112010042585854791</id><published>2005-06-29T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T08:30:27.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Past Times</title><content type='html'>When I think about the types of entertainment available today for this generation of kids, it makes me a little sad. They have access to high speed internet, video games, cell phones, IPods, and any other complicated technological device you can think of. They never have to be creative. Technology has taken care of that for them. They really don't even have to think that much to operate these devices because it is the world that they live in where operating high tech machines is second nature to them. Worst of all the kids growing up today, have little to no imagination because anything that they could imagine has been brought to their very fingertips. Nobody stops anymore to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. They are way to caught up in cyberspace and alternate universes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you remember most about your childhood? What is your favorite past time? Could it be as simple as reading E.B. White's "Charlotte's Web?" "Playing Chutes and Ladders or even Twister?" Chasing down the icecream truck on a hot summer's day?" "Playing spin the bottle and hoping you won't get caught by overprotective parents?" "Going swimming or even skating with a group of friends?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the things I have mentioned in this blog I remember fondly. It's so easy to get caught up in a world that offers you every single advantage you can imagine,but that takes the fun out of imagining.&lt;br /&gt;There are several good times I remember as a kid. One in particular, is getting a group of friends together from my neighborhood and practicing all summer for "Our Show". We would put on these shows for the neighbors at the end of the summer. It was so fun thinking of the songs and dance moves. My best friend and I would perform routines to "Forever Your Girl", "Straight Up", "Love What Never Do Without You". These were the sweetest days. The carefree days when being a kid was as natural as breathing. Nobody does that kind of stuff anymore. And although I may participate in blogging, and take advantage of what the internet and other technology offers, still some of my greatest pleasures are curling up and reading a good book,and laying out in the sun and splashing in the water on a hot summer's day. When I'm driving in my car, I really let loose and sing my lungs out. Okay I admit it. If your really honest with yourself, you do it too. If you don't sing in the car, maybe the shower or some confined area where it is just you and the music. The other day I was driving and I looked over and saw a man just singing away. He was really getting into it. I tried not to laugh, but then I realized I probably look that silly. But who cares? It's nice to know that I have an escape from the harsh realities of this world. Chances are you don't really get that excited and let loose singing the music of today. I can appreciate some of today's music, but I still like to hear music from when I was growing up and times were easy. The next time you get in your car try singing to the top of your lungs its a great stress releaser and it makes you feel like a kid again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-112010042585854791?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/112010042585854791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=112010042585854791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112010042585854791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/112010042585854791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/06/favorite-past-times.html' title='Favorite Past Times'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14011453.post-111992475543796502</id><published>2005-06-27T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T13:41:00.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Whole Enchilada</title><content type='html'>(This one's for the girls)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend and her husband set me up on a blind date last January. Don't you hate those? This is the second blind date that I have ever been on. Well technically it wasn't a blind date. I met him once at his workplace. It turned out that the guy was her husband's college roomate. As usual my best friend took control of the situation. It's one of the things I love and admire in her most. At least when the control issue is not directed at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly this double date went extremely well even after my best friend and her husband went and did their own thing. This guy Max and I went to the movies. Why is it that on every "first date" we make the decision to go to the movies? You can't talk there and get to know each other. Maybe that's the point when it's a blind date. I really opened myself up to this. Two of my best friends have meet their husbands on blind dates. I thought maybe I could be another exception to the rule. After the movie we did alot of talking in his truck. We exchanged cell numbers and he asked me back out for the next weekend. After a year of sorting out my feelings for my ex-boyfriend, this prospect was a welcomed diversion. I wasn't using the guy. I really wanted to give him a chance. A fair shake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did go out the next weekend. We went to dinner and then went back to my place to watch a DVD. We ended up talking for a couple of hours, but I just wasn't feeling anything. I was disappointed that there seemed to be no fireworks, but then again chemistry can be generated over time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided he had better get back on the road because he had to be at work the next day. He lives about an hour from here. I geared myself up for date number three. The third times a charm. Right? He said that he wanted to take me out again, but he had made plans for the following weekend in advance. I thought as excuses go this was pretty legitimate. This guy at least deserved the benefit of the doubt. He called about the middle of the next week. I could breathe. He was still interested. We chit-chatted for about three hours, but he didn't ask me back out. So I made excuses for him like we all do. Telling myself that the distance thing might be an issue and he was having some financial difficulties. When we start making excuses for them that's when our self-esteem takes a nose dive. I am guilty of doing this many times over. And I know we absolutely refuse to be that symbolic doormat, but until we take a stand they are going to continue to wipe their muddy feet on us.  So the story continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the middle of March I decided to make a bold move and invite him to this "innocent" and "friendly" gathering at my best friend's house. I thought we needed to relieve some of the pressure by just hanging out and playing silly board games. He never showed;however, he did call the day before and left me a lame excuse on my voicemail only after I left a message on his voicemail reminding him about our so-called plans. I know. Get a clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my mind the guy needed one more chance. I was applying the three strikes you're out rule for some reason that's beyond me. During one of our phone conversations, he was down and out. He was having a really bad day. I decided to invite him to my place for dinner that Friday night to cheer him up and once and for all see if this thing would go anywhere. I make really good chicken enchiladas. Max had already heard about my enchiladas from James. So Max told me that he would be here the following Friday night for dinner. I went to the grocery store that night and bought the necessary ingredients for this meal, almost a week in advance. We girls like to plan. I had no doubt that he was going to call to confirm plans with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called the Thursday night before he was supposed to come for dinner and said that he had to work offering no apology for putting me out at all. What a jerk! I know that you can sympathize and empathize with me girls. I totally overreacted. I got really upset. He called later that night because he said he was going to. I was cold to him. And I didn't hear from him for about two months after that. When he called two months later, he made idle chit-chat like we were best buds and he hadn't hurt my feelings. I think this guy lost all of his emotional marbles.&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is if a guy doesn't like your "Chicken Enchiladas" take them elsewhere because you deserve the whole enchilada. And so do I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14011453-111992475543796502?l=tbfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/feeds/111992475543796502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14011453&amp;postID=111992475543796502&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/111992475543796502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14011453/posts/default/111992475543796502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbfly.blogspot.com/2005/06/whole-enchilada.html' title='The Whole Enchilada'/><author><name>TB Fly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12618979956708230882</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j210/lgreen1178/deep.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
