tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70928777435335824602024-03-14T00:49:38.676-06:00HorizonsEach day presents us with opportunities to live and find great stories. Join me on a few of mine.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-4100222445801162752014-08-26T09:23:00.002-06:002014-08-26T09:23:53.805-06:00I Have Confidence In Sunshine<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I have been thinking a great deal over the
last few weeks about the question, "Why do I have
self-confidence?" I should start my answer with a disclaimer- my level of
self-confidence often depends on the day. If I am stressed, sick, or near
“happy week,” my ability to think well of my personal self sometimes wavers.
But I have certain things I do in those moments that help me to get back on
track. My self-confidence is a work in progress, but I definitely feel like I
have made great strides in that department.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
personally think that the majority of self-confidence comes down to expectations-
are you meeting the expectations of yourself that make you feel like someone
who is worthwhile? The world’s expectations, which are reinforced in movies,
music, magazines, and television, tell you that you must have and be all of the
following, all of the time, in order to be worthwhile: gorgeous, with perfect hair, the newest styles
of clothes, and a skeletor-thin body; have a nice car; be dating someone; have
a great career. While I want some of these things to some degree and am
striving to accomplish them, I don’t meet any of them now (and I’m not fishing
for compliments- that is just how I feel). But I don’t want to waste time meanwhile
not feeling confident, just because I haven’t met my life goals yet. I have two
ways of avoiding despondency in the meantime: 1. Setting small, achievable
goals; 2. Changing my overall perspective of what is means to be worthwhile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My
overall life goals are to be married to my best friend, have children that grow
up healthy and strong and know they are loved, to contribute to my community in
a meaningful way, and to grow personally and spiritually into the best version
of myself. Every year, I think about major goals I would like to accomplish to
help me move in the direction of these life goals. This year I want to move out
of Reno, start a grad school program, sell my photos, become healthier, and
date more. In order to accomplish these goals, I set some daily and weekly
goals that I write in my planner. I love being able to check things off a list,
so now I have something every day that is <b>doable</b>
that I can check off, moves me closer to reaching my goals, and helps me feel
like I have accomplished something meaningful. For example, for moving and
starting a grad program, I set a goal to set aside a little bit of money each
paycheck towards paying for them. I set a little time aside each Thursday to
research schools and areas to move to. For my goal of being healthier, I have
daily exercise, water intake, and fruit/ veggie consumption goals. I recommend
deciding what it is you want in the long term and then setting achievable goals
that you can do that will help you feel like you are accomplishing something.
Knowing that you are moving forward, that you are not stagnant, will go a long
way to helping you feel your own sense of worth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did you
notice that I spelled out the world’s standards of worth earlier? While I want
some of those things, the level of priority I give them is a little different.
Way more important to me than having great hair is having great relationships
with my family members. Way more important to me that wearing nice clothes is
to be someone of great honesty, kindness, and optimism. That’s not to say that
having great hair and great clothes aren’t important. I am just saying there
are other things that make me happier in the long run. I am so lucky to work at
a dental office, because I see the wealth of humanity come through every day.
As I see different women, I find ones that I admire and try to figure what it
is about them that I like. Then I try to make those qualities the most
important to me. What do they all have in common- they are kind and friendly,
their kids look so happy, they are well educated, and they are movers and
shakers in their community. They are not all fancily dressed, few are thin, and
they aren’t always perfectly attired. But they are happy and they exude
confidence. That is who I want to be when I grow and those are the qualities I
work for. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something
very important that helps me to solidify my feelings of self-worth comes from
my spiritual background. Every week at church, I am reminded that I am a
daughter of a Heavenly, who is perfect and wonderful. As His daughter, I have
limitless potential to become like Him. As I have sought out His help, I have
felt ennobled and empowered to change myself for the better. I fortify that
during the week by setting and accomplishing my goals, by having sincere prayer
about these goals, and by reading my scriptures to remind myself of how others
have overcome trials and gone on to be successful in spite of terrible
circumstances. It works for me. You have to figure out what works for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I
have pondered my low moments, I have noticed an emerging pattern. I usually
feel bad about myself when I am around people I perceive as better or more
accomplished than myself. I measure my worth against the outward appearance of
someone else’s virtues. This is dangerous, because you are only seeing what is
on the surface, which is a seemingly unattainable standard of perfection or
accomplishment. This can leave you feeling helpless. If you find yourself
tempted to think this way, there are two things you can do to get out of that
trap. First, picture each person as a fingerprint: unique, all having similar
characteristics, but beautiful in their individuality. We all have our own pace
and one is not better than any other, just different. One of my favorite lines
from a movie is from “Oklahoma”- “I don’t say I’m no better than anybody else …
but I’ll be danged if I ain’t just as good!” Try hard to avoid comparing
yourself against others and instead focus on pushing yourself to your own,
personal limits, and rejoice and celebrate when you are able to do so. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
If you feel like you are helplessly
swimming in a pool of self-doubt, it is time to climb out of introspection and
focus completely on serving someone else. In serving, you feel empowered to
lift others, to affect change, to be a mover and shaker. You will forget
yourself in this service and will be able to get outside of your head for a
little while. As you serve, why not write down special moments, moments when
you made a difference? That way, when you are feeling powerless, you can read
those entries and remember that you are powerful. The most powerful time of
this for me was serving on my mission. When I feel low, those experiences <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When
all else fails, I have one final fail safe. I sing, as loud and off-key as
humanly possible, the song “Confidence” from “The Sound of Music.” It makes me
laugh, gets me outside of my worries for a little while, and reminds me to not
stress so much. Even if the “rainy-day-blues” Nazis are taking over the
country, you still have so many wonderful things to enjoy in life, like apple
strudel. (If you haven’t seen the movie, this reference will make so sense… and
you should watch it, because it’s amazing!!!!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know
that there are great things in store for you. Never forget- tomorrow has
limitless potential for being a day worth remembering. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-90041464964524515852014-08-26T09:14:00.001-06:002014-08-26T09:14:18.572-06:00<h2>
<b><i><u>Chelsea’s guide to BYU</u></i></b></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><u>Random Advice for Enjoying
Life<o:p></o:p></u></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Choosing a major</b>:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I chose mine according to the building. When I
started at BYU, I was a physics major. The building was cramped, sterile, and
the hallways made me feel like I was in an insane asylum. I looked around the
buildings of campus and found the ones where I felt inspired and the happiest,
and they all happened to house the majors that fit me best. It’s random as all
get out, but it worked for me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://saas.byu.edu/advisement/maps">http://saas.byu.edu/advisement/maps</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Choosing classes</b>:
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->If you want to get in and out of BYU as fast as
possible, disregard this message. If you want to enjoy the experience, then
this is for you. When you graduate from BYU, you want to be the best at
whatever you decide to major in. But to be happy, I think you need to be able
to experience a wide variety of things to be able to find out when makes you
happy and there is so much opportunity for that at BYU. One way of doing that
is with the classes you choose. Thankfully, in order to satisfy your general
education requirements, you do have to take a variety of classes outside of
your field. Really take advantage of that to make cool memories and experience
new things. My favorite classes at BYU were introduction to cinema,
introduction to social dance and country swing and world dance, world religions,
intro to singing, and art history. I
loved my major, but these classes opened up a world of possibilities to me in a
way that just taking major classes would not have done.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Make a friend</b>:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The first day of each class, esp. the big
classes like American Heritage, I always made sure to make 2-3 acquaintances in
the class. That way, if I ever had to miss or was unsure about something, I
always had someone I could call from the class for help.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><u>Things to know about campus<o:p></o:p></u></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Great places to
study/ have peace and quiet</b>:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l7 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The library- you can rent a desk, a group study
room, or a room with a TV/ projector for group projects, or the quiet zone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l7 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Joseph Smith Religion Building- In the little
garden in the middle, it’s usually quiet and nice to sit when you’re stressed
out or just want some quiet<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l7 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The JFSB
has a beautiful little water fountain in the front that’s nice to sit by
and also has really comfy chairs scattered throughout the building <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l7 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->In the international study building (The Kennedy
Center), the women’s bathroom has a bed, in case you really need to lay down
for a minute<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Things to know about
specific buildings</b>:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->In the nursing building (<b>SWKT</b>), they show free movies for the cinema classes almost every
day. It’s called the international cinema and every now and then they show
really cool movies, mostly foreign<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->In the honors building, <b>The Masser Building</b>, they have a study lounge on the first floor
that hardly anyone knows about. It has magazines, a microwave and is a nice
place to eat lunch away from the craziness of the Cannon Center<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The <b>art
museum</b> on campus is free and they
have some really cool rotating exhibits and a cool restaurant upstairs. The <b>Harris Fine Arts Building</b> is where the
art and music majors have their exhibits as well. Most of the best musical
concerts will be there, as well as student exhibits of things like pottery,
photography, and graphic design. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The Business building (<b>The Tanner Building</b>) is the <i>perfect</i>
place for a paper airplane competition<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The International Studies building (<b>The Kennedy Center</b>) has a huge display
at one end with papers detailing all the different study abroad and service
abroad opportunities for the next year. They always have limited space, so
apply as soon as you can when you pick one. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The Science building (<b>Eyring Science Center</b>) has a ton of random, fun science exhibits
you can play with for free on the main floor of the building<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The <b>library</b>
has a lot of random, cool stuff<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->a.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->They have a quiet zone where you can be sure
there will be no noise for studying<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->b.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->There is a room of international movies for free
rental <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->c.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->There is a sheet music room<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->d.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->They have research librarians that you can
reserve to help you with papers<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->e.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->They sometimes have snuggie study parties, which
are hilarious<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->f.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Be careful with overdue books- they charge you
like a $1 a day per item<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level2 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->g.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Amazing family history resources!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->8.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->If you get into family history, there is a <b>family history lab</b> in the JFSB building
and every computer there in and in the library has access to some amazing,
really expensive programs. Along with the family history center in Salt Lake
City, you will never again have such access to such amazing resources- a great
time to take advantage. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->9.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->In the <b>Jesse
Knight Building</b> (KNB), there is the English Writing Center, where you can
have English majors look over your papers and make critiques<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->10.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>The Bean
Museum</b>- has a huge collection of taxidermy animals. It’s free and kind of
fun to check out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->11.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->In the Wilkinson Center (the <b>WILK</b>), they have a little movie theater
and will regularly show discounted movies for about $3 dollars. They have free
bowling days downstairs and a cool new café where you can hang out and meet up
with people. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->12.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The <b>WILK
Bookstore</b> is the most expensive place to buy pretty much anything. But the
chocolate-covered cinnamon bears are probably worth it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l2 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->13.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->When you go to buy your books, shop around a
little bit. Your school Web site will tell you which books you need for your
classes. With that list, there are companies in Provo where you can get them
for infinitely cheaper than the <b>bookstore</b>.
If you do decide to get your books at the bookstore, there is an option to have
the bookstore put together your books for you, so all you have to do is show up
and grab the stack instead of hunting around the 1000s of other students all
looking for books. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><u>Fun Things on Campus</u></i>:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The newspaper, <b>The
Daily Universe</b>, which might be totally online now, will have a list of all
fun activities coming up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Clubs:</b> <a href="http://clubs.byu.edu/search/index">http://clubs.byu.edu/search/index</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Concerts/
Performances:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Vocal Point- acapella guys <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Noteworthy- acapella girls<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Young Ambassadors- Music Dance Theater majors<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Student Film Festival- best of show<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Divine Comedy- best of show (try to go to the
free screenings)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Ballroom Dance Company (you have a member of the
team get you tickets- they camp out overnight to get you the best seats)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Sunday Tunnel Singing<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Generally freshmen will gather every Sunday
around dusk to sing hymns at the tunnel leading to the Marriott Center (the
basketball stadium)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>Fall Semester</u>:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Homecoming- <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->There will be tons of different dances to go to
and the football games are a lot of fun. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Get tickets as early as you can.<b> <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Tru-Blue football: They will slick a hill down and
you can run and slide down the foam. This is a fun one to have a big group to
go with.<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>General Conference- <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Parking: If you look up the TRAX, there will be
places all along the track that you can park at and take the TRAX into SLC so
that you don’t have to try to find parking.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Tickets- mention to your bishop early in the
school year that you would like tickets and try to get a couple. Or you can
just go the Temple Square and ask people if they have extras. You won’t always
get to sit by someone you know that way, but at least you get in. OR you can
watch on Temple Square in the old tabernacle or in the chapel or theater of the Joseph Smith Memorial
Building (more comfy) <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->During Priesthood Session, there are tons of
girls’-night-out events with raffles. A good one to check into is the Sister
Missionary Mall. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><u>Christmas:</u><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->There will be an online raffle for tickets to go
to the Christmas Devotional with the 1<sup>st</sup> Presidency at the
Conference Center in Salt Lake City. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->There’s a group on campus that will walk through
Provo reenacting the journey of the shepherds to the baby Jesus, complete with
llamas. If nothing else, it’s really fun to watch. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Get your flight to and fro for the break early-
they fill up really early and get really expensive if you wait ‘til near the
end. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><u>Spring Semester</u>:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Hari Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork: All year long there are
cool festivals, but the most popular one is the Holi Color festival, which is
generally the weekend before General Conference. I would recommend big
sunglasses or even goggles and definitely a dental mask or handkerchief to
cover your mouth, because you can’t breath for a couple minutes with all the
colored dust in the air<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i><u>Cool service opportunities<o:p></o:p></u></i></b></div>
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<b>MTC</b>- be an
investigator<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Time commitment- about 2 hours at a set time each
week<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Temple patron<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->You will get a limited-use recommend from your
bishop and can go whenever without an appmnt<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Go to lots of temples- Salt Lake City is really
cool- you enter through this random entrance on the side of the temple. The
Oquirrh Mountain is gorgeous!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Empty times: during BYU devotional (Tuesday 11
am) or one night a week they go late (I think it’s Wednesdays or Thursdays)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>MLK Jr Day</b> (in
the spring)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->All-day service event that will have dozens of
different projects<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Check out Y-serve</b>:
they will have cool ideas all the time<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i><u>Food<o:p></o:p></u></i></b></div>
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<b>The Creamery</b>
(Eastern edge of campus): really good ice cream<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><i><u>To Do in the Vicinity<o:p></o:p></u></i></b></div>
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<b>Movies</b>: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Dollar Movie (timing like the GSR)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->I-Max theater: Sandy<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->They do outdoor movies sometimes in the Provo
Amphitheater south of town<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Theater</b>: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Center street musical theater: they do great
little community plays<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The Murray Desert Star Playhouse: a dinner
theater where they do Mormon spoofs on popular movies, like “My Big Fat Mormon
Wedding” or “CSI- Provo”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The Sundance outdoor amphitheater- plays in the
summer/ fall<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Hiking: <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><a href="http://www.utah.com/provo/hiking_trails.htm"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">www.utah.com/<b>provo</b>/hiking_trails.htm</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Mt. Timp (usually start at night and hike to be
up there at dawn)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->The Y (really steep, not esp. fun, but a great
view)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->Stewart Falls*** (really pretty in the fall)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->On full moon nights in the summer, they will do
rides up the ski lift at Sundance<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><!--[endif]-->There are TONS of cool waterfalls to go look for<o:p></o:p></div>
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Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-30009470056834539982012-09-28T12:41:00.001-06:002012-09-28T12:41:51.097-06:00Service in Zimbabwe<br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;">The following is an excerpt from an email sent my missionaries serving in Zimbabwe. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><b><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 22pt;">THANK-YOU</span></b><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> for assisting us in answering MANY, MANY Zimbabwean’s Prayers and for making a significant difference in their lives by helping us to fill our containers!!<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">We thought you might like to hear a few thoughts of those who are distributing your ‘VERY kind gifts of love’ to these wonderful People in Zimbabwe!!</span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Rachel – </span></b><b><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“</span></span></b><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Once when doing a soup kitchen in winter for the ‘street Kids’ in the middle of town, there was a little, little guy sitting on the curb – maybe 4 years old – he just sat and watched me as I dished up soup and bread for the kids in the line. He didn’t ask for anything, he didn’t even seem to have the strength to jostle with the others for a place in the line. He just watched me. When things had calmed down and most of the children had been fed, I poured some soup into a cup and offered it to him with some bread. I was still in a focused and rather busy state of mind – just trying to get everything sorted. Then he taught me one of the greatest lessons of my life – he did not reach greedily for the soup and bread as I thought he might, instead he quietly said to me – “ndirikutonorwa” (“I am SO cold”). I had presumed his need and was so busy being magnanimous and handing out food and doing good things and helping, that I actually forgot the most important aspect of service – the humanity! I got something warm out of the car and wrapped it around him and then I sat with him and talked – that little man had so much to say – I realized that these abandoned and orphaned Children need more than anything else, someone to ‘see’ them, to really see them, and to care about what they see.”</span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0033cc; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><img height="388" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.1&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="308" /><u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Ranga</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> – </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“As we were preparing for our youth camp, 'For the Strength of You', ‘Young Men’ and ‘Young Women’ August camp - we as the ‘Stake Young Women Presidency’ leaders invited some of the Relief Society, Sisters from the ‘Mabvuku’ and ‘Tafara’ Wards to help with preparations of the packing of bedding, blankets, shirts, ties, school kits, hygiene supplies etc. One of the Relief Society Sisters was so amazed to see these things, she started telling her story of her husband leaving their Family, she said she had to take care of her two Boys and three Girls as well as her younger Brothers two Children who are also HIV positive. She felt so grateful because she felt some of her biggest problems would be solved when the Children would receive their new bedding. She said they used to share one blanket between 3 people. As this camp was held during the cold weather, most of the children were so excited to get a pair of sheets, a blanket and warm clothes. Some of the young men had never owned a white shirt to wear to Church and they could hardly believe that they were getting all these items just for free - when they normally have to make great sacrifices as a Family to try and obtain just one! Most of the people within our community, were so astonished to hear from the Youth sharing the story with them how much food they had to eat and every other blessing they experienced by being at camp. Most of the single Mothers and some Grandmothers who are taking care of Children felt so blessed by their burdens being lifted by all the gifts received!<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Most Zimbabweans are underprivileged, at one time in our community we had an outbreak of typhoid, diahorrea and cholera. This was caused by bad drainage systems and shortage of water. Mostly when you go to the local clinics there was no medication or drips. One time I visited our local clinic and this was the case there wasn’t<u>any</u> medicine. When my daughter was admitted to the ‘labour ward’ there wasn’t any mattresses, blankets and the toilet systems were down, in fact we had to carry water in buckets from home to the hospital. I had to ask the Bishop of our Ward to create a service project at the local clinic/hospital, so we donated the sanitary chemicals, drugs and blankets. That day whilst we were doing this service project in the Hospitals ‘Labour Ward’ we were blessed with 3 baby Boys and 2 Girls! At the outpatient ward we donated money to buy TB drugs and some of the more expensive drugs which the patients were asked to go and purchase by themselves, but they did not have any money to do so. All the people who were there on that day were very happy and grateful for their burdens being lifted. Now whenever the clinic needs help they just call us!”</span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="clear: left; color: red; float: left; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="97" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.2&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="640" /></span><b></b><b><span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></b></div>
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<span style="clear: left; color: red; float: left; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="261" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.3&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="640" /></span><b></b><b><span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></b></div>
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<span style="clear: left; color: red; float: left; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Description: Description: Description: cid:image001.png@01CD77D9.02F85490" height="188" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.4&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="640" /></span><b></b><b><span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></b></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Sharon -</span></b><span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"> </span><span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I felt that this was such an awe inspiring story that happened to little old me, but it needed to be told. I have to thank you for the ability I have to access Aid Relief Items by simply making one phone-call, on this particular morning it was to Rachel.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I had just finished dropping my children off at school, I arrived back at my when...Three ladies stepped out from just behind my Giant Monstera Plants that grow in planter boxes just outside my home. I had to slam on brakes, as I was turning in and presumed the gate already open. There before me was the most disturbing sight I had seen in a long time, and upon opening my car window to ask what I could do for them, their general state of dishevelment was again justified by the pungent smell of urine and vomit that filled my nostrils. I want to describe what I saw, so that you can feel what drove me to act so promptly. The three gaunt ladies stood with tattered clothes, hanging off their frail bodies. Their mouths were dry and chapped, and their hair was uncombed and partly falling out, and with a reddish colour, indicating gross malnutrition. I got out of my car, and walked towards them, smiling at them, as I saw they were nervous, and one of them was struggling to stand. Then to my shock they simultaneously pulled from their backs three of the smallest waifs I had ever set eyes on. I live in Africa, and have seen many cases of abject poverty and neglect, but this grabbed at my throat and pulled hard at my very being. The first lady held in her arms what seemed to be a two year old mentally challenged little boy.(I later found out he was five years old) The second lady had a beautiful little three year old boy, suffering from Cerebral Palsy. It seemed as if this little boy, his eyes set way back in his eye sockets, dry, chapped mouth, but with the biggest teethy smile you can imagine, his clothes consisting of a thin little vest which in its day must have resembled one piece of clothing, this was patched and tied with little pieces of string. His trousers were so small, yet they fit him perfectly, making him seem as if he was one year old. The third little girl was emaciated and suffering from ring-worm, and serious malnutrition, along with some form of downs-syndrome.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">All three mothers smiled back at me, and then one lady proceeded to talk to me in rapid Shona. I called my gardener to translate for me, as I could not grasp exactly what they were saying. Translated by Tom, they told me they lived on the furthest part of Epworth Mission, a high density area, just outside Harare. They said they had no-where else to go, but were instructed by the clinic to come to my house. As you can imagine, I was very aware instantaneously that I had to act quickly. I knew that I was their last resort, and that if they could be at my house at seven-thirty in the morning, when they lived at least two hours away from where I live, they were desperate. The fatigue in their eyes, their lives painfully etched into their eyes and faces. Their urine-soaked children, and consequently urine-soaked backs from carrying them on their backs, as the mothers of Africa do, making me turn away for some relief of fresh air. It was time to act, and that is the point I made in the beginning. The knowledge of where to turn, and where I could find bounteous help was at my fingertips. I phoned Rachel and described the situation. The immediate response from Rachel was “get over here and I will give you whatever you need.”</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Upon arriving at the containers, I found Rachel already digging out baby clothes, baby formula, towels, blankets, food, hygiene kits, washing detergent, adult clothing, toys, books, and soap. I kept on saying to Rachel I needed MORE! She understood without me having to go into great explanations, the only thing I said was “I was the last stop, their eyes told me that they had lost the fight, and that they had obviously been looking for days but to no avail. I was the one who had to help them out of the abyss they were in, because they had lost all hope.” I knew this because I felt the spirit of the Lord, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was real.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">My car loaded to the hilt, no cell-phone time, and just above “E” on my petrol tank, I loaded the only passenger I could fit into my car, and the only one who could understand what I was saying. The other two ladies, I gave bus fare money to and asked that they follow and meet us in Epworth where the three ladies lived as neighbours.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I got to the outskirts of Epworth Mission, glancing at my ever-shrinking fuel-tank gauge, I prayed it would not be too much further. And on we drove, and drove and drove! The lady just kept motioning to keep going. The high density areas of Africa are a sight to behold, mango trees, maize, vegetable stands, buses, chickens running amuck, and dust flying up with the noise of the people. We drove past all of that, until we came to the furthest reaches of the inhabited area, and there she touched my shoulder and signalled me to stop. Red light on my fuel tank, no cell-phone time, no money in my bag, but donning my sunglasses, I climbed out of the car. I choked back the tears as I looked upon what they classified as their homes, pieces of tin sheeting and cardboard, no mango trees, no veggie gardens, and no sign that water was found in this barren place.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Slowly out of the tin shacks people started to walk towards me, most of them suffering with some form of disability, poverty exacerbating it even more. I did not feel afraid at all, I was alone on an errand for the Lord and I knew He had full control of this situation. I felt as if He had assisted them to finding my gate, and for that I am very grateful.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">They stood silently, but with a sweet smile on their faces. Grace told them that I was there to help them and that they should listen to what I asked them. I explained to what amounted to close to a hundred people that I was helping these three families, but that I would return. I could see their pain and their needs, and would do something about it on my return to Harare. They graciously helped the three ladies carry all their goods to their shacks, and then returned to the car and waited. I wished that I had ten ton trucks full of welfare aid to distribute, but committed to returning soon. Grace explained to them that I would return and they wished me a safe trip home.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">By now, my sunglasses were off, as I wanted them to see the sincerity of my pledge in my eyes, and that I felt their pain and wanted to help. The gift of simply washing powder and baby milk, along with food, changed their lives, and the gratitude they showed, with the dignity and grace of royalty was overwhelming for me. I drove home slowly, contemplating the mammoth task that lay ahead, but determined to make a difference to that community that had been shunned and forgotten by society, because of their disabilities, which is considered a curse in the African culture.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">I cried all the way home, did not have to look at my fuel gauge because I knew this was the Lord’s errand. I was very grateful for the access I had to help these families, by the kind gifts of people thousands of miles away on different continents. People with consciences, people who refuse to turn a blind eye to the plight of the people of Zimbabwe.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I know that my return to Epworth Mission is tantamount, as they believed me when I said that I would return to help. Thank-you for affording me the ability of doing just that, of keeping my word to people who need this help the most. Much Love, Sharon<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0033cc; font-size: 14pt;"><img height="344" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.5&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="272" /> <img height="344" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.6&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="529" /><u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Esther</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> – </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“There are widows and orphans who are desperate. One widow had a daughter and a son. First her daughter died of AIDS leaving a daughter of 3 years old behind. Then her daughter in law died of AIDS leaving her a 3 month old boy. Finally her son died of AIDS. How was she going to feed this child. There was formula sent over in the containers which was able to keep this baby going as purchasing baby formula is not even a possibility because of the meager wages this grandmother earns and the prohibitive cost of infant formula. The children both received clothing and blankets. Both have survived - in fact the baby is now 18 months old and finally weaned off the baby milk and is now having Admit as a nutritional supplement.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">A couple who live below the poverty line had a set of twins, 18 months later due to a failure of birth control, a second set of twins was born to this same couple. What a shock! No money, too many small children and no way to support them. They were given bedding, clothing, food (Atmit) and most importantly baby formula. Thanks to the gifts from these containers this family has survived and has no way to express their gratitude to the people who live so far away who have sent these things to keep us alive!”</span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0033cc; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><img height="237" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.7&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="321" /><u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Reg & Iris</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> – </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“Many people with small children come to our gate, this happens most every day. We are able to give them blankets/quilts, rice, clothing, shoes (which are almost always worn through). School kits are always a great blessing because it is very expensive for the parents to try and pay school fees and school uniforms, they very often cannot afford to send children to school but at least with a school kit they can practice at home.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Three Matrons from ‘Harare Hospital’ came and collected a truck full of clothing, food, crutches, walkers, sheets, blankets, newborn kits as many of the Patients arrive with nothing and the hospitals own resources are minimal. They were absolutely desperate for sheets, sanitary towels and diapers for the neo natal wards. <u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Atmit has been given as a life support for many people dying from HIV/AIDS - the waiting lists for ARV's are very long and many times people die before they can gain access to them. However Atmit has strengthened these people enough by boosting their immune system they can get out of bed, go back to work and continue to support and look after their own Children. We can prevent children from becoming orphans by giving their parents Atmit and keeping them alive.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">We have helped ‘Howard Hospital’ extensively which attends to 275000 people in the surrounding areas! We have been able to send medical equipment, hygiene kits, newborn kits, clothing, school kits, toys, blankets, rice, Atmit, walkers, wheelchairs (which we have a profound shortage of!). This hospital has provided so much treatment to needy people free of charge - it has saved literally tens of thousands of lives! They depend on donations to sustain its operation. We also carry out large numbers of cataract operations using ‘Howard Hospitals’ facilities, performed by Dr Chinogure and his team who kindly donate their time to ‘Eyes for Zimbabwe’.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">‘Chivhu Hospital’ and a number of additional Hospitals & Clinics have also benefited greatly from the kind donations by all those who contribute so generously to these containers. <u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">This work is sacred, it is definitely the Lords work, we are sorry that you are not able to see the faces of those who receive your kind gifts, we definitely have the greatest of privileges being able to see these items in the hands of these deserving and desperate people. Our heartfelt thanks go to those very kind people who make the time and effort to donate so selflessly to the people of Zimbabwe - I pray one day in heaven you will be able to meet the people whose lives you have touched - you have no idea how many people you will see!!”</span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0033cc; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><img height="378" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.8&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="486" /> <u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Suppa</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> – </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“I have to say no one gives us things for free here in Zimbabwe except ‘The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Saints’. This Church look after us, they give us things like clothes, blankets, shoes, school kits, school fees and many more. I say we are so happy for the kind People of this Church who look after us - thank you for everything which you have sent. Whenever we give things to these people they are so shocked because they can’t believe at first that someone can love them enough to give to us and then they always say "God Bless You because you gave God a way to help us.””</span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Kelly-Ann</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> – </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“Our Ward decided on a project which would benefit both Adults and Children, we decided to focus on a little school on the outskirts of Harare, ‘Domboshava Primary School’. This little school needed help in various areas and so as a ward we picked a Saturday where everyone who was able, gave of their time and assisted in every way possible, to make this particular project successful. There were various areas of concern for us; however we were only able to address three areas where we could try to make a difference.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><u></u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">1.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><u></u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">We decided to clean up the fields and outside area of the school, so the children could play safely during recess time. This included cleaning up, repairing and painting the existing swings etc. in their playground. We were also able to secure some used tires which we added to their play area, once we cleaned up the sandpit.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><u></u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">2.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><u></u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">We secured some paint which we then used to paint the interior and exterior of a new hall that they had just recently built. Unfortunately due to lack of funds, the school itself was unable to finish it off and so we took this on as another one of the areas wherewith we were able to assist them.<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><u></u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">3.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><u></u><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">The third and possibly most important area where we were able to be of assistance was with the donation of books, paper, pens, pencils, crayons, rulers, sharpeners etc., which both the Junior and Senior Schools were in serious need of. Up to this point they had no libraries of any sort. We then proceeded to clean up one of the classrooms near the administration block of the school and set up what hopefully will be the start of a well-stocked library for them. We were also able to include a few educational toys for the younger pupils.<u><u></u><u></u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Many of the children from the school came along to see what we were doing as they all live close by and were very excited at the prospect of having books to read and so they too joined in to help us clean up and set up the books. Some of the Parents then approached us about donating a large number of books for the ‘Senior School’ and for the Adults in the area, as the Women in the nearby community run a book exchange, where a youngster on a bicycle travels around the area once a week with a selection of books that anyone is able to borrow and return once it has been read. The donation of the books and other items has managed not only to help the Junior and Senior Schools, but has also been able to assist the various Men and Women in the area to secure and read various literature, which for many of them in the community is a rarity. Our program was recognized by the ‘council men and women’ in the area and we were thanked for our kind contributions, which not only affected the lives of the children in the two schools, but a whole community has benefited by the literature which we ourselves often take for granted!<u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Thank you for helping us to make a significant difference!!!” </span><span style="color: #0033cc;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0033cc; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> <img height="318" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.11&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="429" /> <img height="320" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=9535b37bd2&view=att&th=139f7320c31a0577&attid=0.12&disp=emb&zw&atsh=1" width="427" /><u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<b style="color: #222222;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">From Reg –</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">“The wonderful privilege of carrying out this distribution and gathering of equipment and supplies has enabled me to witness some of the kindest charitable acts that I have seen. As I stand by the containers and you look around and see the sparse clothing that the recipients are wearing, the food that has no variation and then you hear of their struggle to find the bus fare to return to their homes so far away. You realize that this is an opportunity to lift your fellow Brothers and Sisters, their reflection of gratitude is enormous in their eyes! I have seen one old Lady who had the opportunity to gather 5 items of clothing and 2kgs of rice & lentils, when a neighbor came and mentioned her plight saying that she had been told there was no more clothing or rice left, this old Lady then offered half of the little she had received to her neighbor saying “We can share - you have more need of this than me!” In other instances I have seen the distribution of bread and to people who love bread but haven’t tasted it for many months, they cannot keep the smiles off their faces! Other kind acts were watching a little Grand-Daughter feeding her Grand-Mother, a Sibling feeding all 4 of his Siblings and watching them as they don’t want to swallow, they just want to keep chewing and keep the bread in their mouths for as long as they can! This same Family we did didn’t have the right size of clothing for the littlest Daughter but their oldest Sister said – “We can take my dress and change it into dresses for all three of my siblings and if we have any fabric over we can make my little Brother a pair of shorts.” Coming closer to home I have watched our Gardeners Son with his younger Sisters and how kind he is and how proud he is of them being able to hold their heads up wherever they go - why? Because their Father pays his Tithing and helps the neighbors that live around him who are in need. Children witnessing Parents acts of kindness respond by wanting to emulate the acts themselves. The Gospel teaches us that when people are in need they really find it difficult to listen but once you have satisfied the need for basic commodities ie. food clothing shelter they will give you their full attention - when they ask you why do you do it - you are able to explain - that is what your Heavenly Father wants me to do. The great accolades that have been showered on the Church are because we are practicing what our Heavenly Father has asked us to do – ‘Love the Lord, love your neighbor and do good to everyone you can!’”</span></span></div>
Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-38234426222613845982012-01-01T17:39:00.001-07:002012-01-01T17:40:08.691-07:00So I was thinking ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_vwUZBqNZw/TwD8WvJcfII/AAAAAAAAAgA/EAewe42Bo4g/s1600/50_Points.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_vwUZBqNZw/TwD8WvJcfII/AAAAAAAAAgA/EAewe42Bo4g/s320/50_Points.jpg" width="232" /></a></div><br />
My sister Felicity and I were driving to my house today and I had to slow down quickly so as not to hit a pedestrian crossing the street. Felicity exclaimed that I would have gotten ten points if I had hit him (all in jest, of course). I facetiously replied that I would have gotten negative points because he was Asian, and therefore probably smarter than us and a great loss to humankind. From that point on, we made up a list of people who would be guaranteed points if you hit them, as well as a list of those who you should never hit. Disclaimer- we do not think you should ever run over people with cars.<br />
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<b>If you hit the following with your car, you will get 10 points:</b><br />
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1. People who smoke in public- Hey buddy, I don’t wanna die by second-hand smoke! Take that!<br />
2. People who are texting, talking on the phone, or listening to an iPod with both ears in and don’t even look up when they cross the road – in most countries, that would be called “Stupid”<br />
3. People who wear their pants either so that their underwear is showing or that only go up to their knees- this would seem like a genetic mutation in our fashion genes and we should do our best to rid our generation of such a plague<br />
4. Small, yappy dogs- this qualifies as double points, because you must only run over the irritating dog, not the owner<br />
5. Attitude-y teenagers<br />
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<b>People you should not hit with your car:</b><br />
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1. Nuns<br />
2. Pregnant ladies, or women with babies<br />
3. Couples that are still holding hands after 10 years of marriage<br />
4. Nice old people (notice the qualifier- NICE. If they are mean, it’s open season)<br />
5. People who walk their cats on leashes- if you can pull that off, you deserve to live<br />
6. Asians- on the off chance that the racial stereotype is true and they are, in fact, smarter than the rest of usChelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-39551929665750446602011-07-10T04:22:00.000-06:002011-07-10T04:22:53.971-06:00Peavine Princesses<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="425" height="346" id="soundslider"><param name="movie" value="http://dl.dropbox.com/u/34821846/publish_to_web%20%282%29/soundslider.swf?size=2&format=xml" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="menu" value="false" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#000000" /><embed src="http://dl.dropbox.com/u/34821846/publish_to_web%20%282%29/soundslider.swf?size=2&format=xml" quality="high" bgcolor="#000000" width="425" height="346" menu="false" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br />
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The beautiful young women of Peavine Mountain Ward.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-64288850931577772902011-07-10T04:01:00.000-06:002011-07-10T04:01:14.686-06:00Girls' Camp 2011<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="425" height="331" id="soundslider"><param name="movie" value="http://dl.dropbox.com/u/34821846/publish_to_web%20%281%29/soundslider.swf?size=2&format=xml" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="menu" value="false" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#000000" /><embed src="http://dl.dropbox.com/u/34821846/publish_to_web%20%281%29/soundslider.swf?size=2&format=xml" quality="high" bgcolor="#000000" width="425" height="331" menu="false" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><br />
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Dedicated to the girls of the Peavine Mountain ward. :DChelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-10983673595061923012011-03-31T16:46:00.008-06:002011-03-31T17:01:13.724-06:00Wherefore art thou pizza?<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590381968269948418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e41ZmAZEm7A/TZUGx_F6tgI/AAAAAAAAAd8/9aUg64tNcA0/s320/real%252520pizza.jpg" /> <br /><div><br /><div>I asked my students today to write about something that people don't appreciate or care for as much as they should. Most students listed things like the environment or their health.</div><br /><div>One student seemed to ponder this question for quite a while, his face screwed up in heavy concentration. Excited by such effort, I eagerly grabbed his folder after class to see what he wrote.</div><br /><div>"I think people should care about pizza. Pizza does so much for you and people don't care. If cars ran on pizza they would run better."</div><br /><div>He got a ten out of ten. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>************************************************************************</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 203px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590382087456737842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HMUNDe49ObY/TZUG47GQyjI/AAAAAAAAAeE/k3jJMT5S_2o/s320/combustion.jpg" />One of my more interesting students (the one that flashed the entire class a few months ago) called out to me in the middle of our period and said, "Hey Ms. Warren, look over here!" </div><br /><div>I looked over to his table and screamed in panic, because his hand was on fire. I was super confused because he seemed to be enjoying his spontaneous combustion (it usually ruins my day) </div><br /><div>Turns out, he was spraying his hand with opious amounts of cologne, then setting it ablaze with his lighter. </div><br /><div>While the pryomaniac in me was super impressed and a little tempted to try it myself, I found myself pulling a responsible adult by taking his lighter away and trying to convince him that setting our classroom on fire would be a bad thing in the long run.</div><br /><div>Good times, good times.</div></div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-52185094696282939762011-03-17T13:12:00.010-06:002012-05-16T15:32:19.447-06:00Tired, tired and then ... HUZZAH!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-el-a3EynE0g/TYKD_hnKW0I/AAAAAAAAAd0/UdRVVWfqHS4/s1600/Lil-Penguin-Infant-Costume-300x300.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585171615270460226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-el-a3EynE0g/TYKD_hnKW0I/AAAAAAAAAd0/UdRVVWfqHS4/s320/Lil-Penguin-Infant-Costume-300x300.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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Right now, everyone I know is tired. Tired of school. Tired of winter. Tired of the same ol'-ness of everyday life. Tired, tired, tired.</div>
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Getting my students motivated to learn when I am so pooped is a bit of a predicament. I was awfully tempted to propose nap time to my 5th period class today and they probably would have been all over it. (I resisted- I hear they frown on "nap time" in the 9th grade) </div>
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Thankfully, Someone upstairs loves me and has sent little golden nuggets of enthusiasm to keep me going.</div>
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Here are some of my favorites:</div>
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<strong>"Duty" and Public Indecency</strong><br />
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One of my least favorite aspects of my job is "Duty." Just the name inspires spontaneous combustion via boredom. I was just noting that to my fellow "duty" sufferer when a student ran down the hall wearing a penguin outfit, closely followed by two students wearing nothing but neon blue spandex undies and rollerblades. I spent the next five minutes busting up as I watched them evading the police officers on campus. If something like that happened everyday, duty would cease to be so dull and we would also have to rename it to something with more pizzazz, like "cackle to yourself for 30 minutes" or "public indecency 101."</div>
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<strong>News stories and "Holy cow, he actually did something!"</strong><br />
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I ask my students to write a paragraph every day and sometimes the topics are less than inspiring. Today, however, I was amazed at how engaged they were by the topic. I had them watch a Reuters video online about the tsunami situation in Japan. The students asked question after question about the impact of this event. They pondered together about how to help show the people in Japan their support. And one of my students, who is failing for never having completed an assignment, wrote me an extensive response to this video. This experience warmed the cockles of my heart.</div>
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<strong>Dumbfounded</strong></div>
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In my fifth period class the other day, my students started to have a heated argument about how boring my class is compared to other freshman classes ... in front of me. I pointed out to them that this might not be the smartest idea, considering brownie points and that quarter grades due next week. They seemed dumbfounded, like this had never even occurred to them before. My unexpected happy moment came when one of my students defended my class as his absolute favorite. It was unexpected because I am pretty sure he doesn't care for me (considering that he told me , "I hate you and I wanna key your car" only last week). So, my class isn't the most boring for at least one student .... HUZZAH!!!</div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-44710471464314341962011-02-15T08:43:00.005-07:002011-02-15T08:53:20.575-07:00One of the joys of teaching English is the occasional opportunity to strut your stuff and show your kids just how amazing a writer you actually are.<br /><br /><br />For our writing prompt for Valentine's Day, I gave a mini lesson on the arts and subtleties of how to write a love letter.<br /><br /><br />As I am not currently in a relationship, I modeled with the following:<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">O' how I love thee,</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Let me count the ways.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">You liven up my salads,</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">And you brighten up my days.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I love you when you're Cheddar,</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">I love you when you're Swiss,</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">And when too poor to find you,</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Your savor I do miss.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Please never leave my side</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">As long as I do live.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Forever and for always</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">All my love to you I'll give."</div><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><br /><br />I think they finally appreciate just how cool I am now.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573944648509559074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0pKNEjWCHu8/TVqhIDQaESI/AAAAAAAAAds/w8FxFTnIYBU/s320/cheese2.jpg" />Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-21604478636476423962011-02-13T20:30:00.008-07:002011-02-13T21:14:43.356-07:0014 months and 8 pencils later....As the stress in my life has increased exponentially in the last few months, I have retreated to one of my greatest sources of solace: drawing. While I love drawing all sorts of people, there is a special joy that comes in drawing scenes from the Savior's life.<br />It may sound silly, but I have an affection for my drawings a little bit like unto a parent's love for a child. I created them and watched them grow under my watchful care. As each of the following are gifts for other people, I will see them go with a mixture of emotions. There will be the sorrow of parting, but also that joy in knowing that something you made will, hopefully, bring something special to other people's lives.<br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573384729078875042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oIAuAMe5ass/TVij4c1VQ6I/AAAAAAAAAdg/_C6FjZpWHps/s320/drawings2%2B003.jpg" />*The Shepherd. I love this drawing, because of the joy you see in the shepherd's face as he tends his flock. This drawing is for my New Testament institute teacher, as thanks for re-engaging my mind and heart in the scriptures.<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KqN8hD5shQQ/TViimznkPvI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/Albkx1M5Gj8/s1600/drawings%2B003.jpg"></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573384302984614418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0oeKnUnpIrY/TVijfpgi0hI/AAAAAAAAAdY/eCdVxP3IEl4/s320/drawings%2B008.jpg" /></div><div>*The classic Savior as the shepherd. This will go to my friend for her wedding, as a reminder that in marriage, as in all else, the Savior will guide us through the trials that beset us.<br /><br /><br /><div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573383076329260434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2K23bnLo6w/TViiYP3HhZI/AAAAAAAAAdI/kGNhTtAT9PQ/s400/drawings%2B010.jpg" /><br />*This is my absolute favorite drawing I have ever done, in part because it is the one that took me the longest. The drawing is quite large, standing at 3 1/2 by 3 feet, which I thought was fitting to depict such a lovely scene in the scriptures. It took my 14 months to complete.</div><div>The picture shows us a father desperate to heal his son. He asks the Savior to heal the boy and is given a profound reply. All things are possible to him that believeth, the Savior tells him. When the man declares that he believes, the Savior admonishes him with a glance. The father then begs, "help thou my unbelief." In the end, the boy's health is restored. Sometimes I feel down on myself for my lack of faith, skill, boldness, etc. Instead of resigning ourselves to failure, we all have the option of asking the Lord to help us find what we lack. </div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:78%;">*note: None of these are original drawings. They are all my own artistic representation of another artist's work and I do not hold any of the credit for myself, neither am I advertising them for sale.</span></div></div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-20296592512312327882011-01-30T21:08:00.005-07:002011-07-10T03:03:06.631-06:00College apps ... for someone elseSo, my amazing and wonderful little sister Felicity is applying for college scholarships. While she was able to whip out her essays on goals and activities lickety-split, her essay about how wonderful she is was a little more challenging.<br /><br />So, I decided to give her a few ideas. These are what I came up with. Let me know which you think would have been the most successful, had she allowed me to write her essay for her.<br /><br />1. When my mother and father met at BYU, they had no idea what a hottie they had in the making ... ME! It took them three tries and fifteen years to create the perfection that I embody. After all that effort, I decided to leave heaven just long enough to grace them with my presence.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-9248190229892304972011-01-23T14:28:00.009-07:002011-01-23T14:43:27.629-07:00Sunday Musings: Love and Covenants<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TTygdjV2vwI/AAAAAAAAAc8/aYEkqNkTEK8/s1600/nature-photography-Canada-Jason-Hightower.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565499669086650114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TTygdjV2vwI/AAAAAAAAAc8/aYEkqNkTEK8/s320/nature-photography-Canada-Jason-Hightower.jpg" /></a> <div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">Photo from stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Tina2/tag/canada/</span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Today we had a special meeting at church called a ward conference. During one of the interactive lessons, the gentleman teaching brought up the topic of covenants, which are two-way promises we make with God. He asked us how keeping covenants affects our relationship with our Heavenly Father.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As I pondered this question, I thought about the things that make a big difference in my relationship with my own parents. One of the factors that made the biggest difference in our relationship was my moving back home for a few months. Coming home, and while here, choosing to be home instead of always going out are the ways I show my parents that I love them, that I choose them over other people's company. I have activites virtually every night of the week and on those rare occasions when I do not go out, they express being overjoyed.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I thought about that in relation to covenants. Our Heavenly Father asks us to make covenants because He knows that they are exactly what we need to make it home to Him, to survive the wear and tear of this life. By choosing to keep these covenants, we are showing Him that we want to go home, that we are striving to make it back to His presence so that we can live as a family once more. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>By maintaining this attitude when it comes to covenants, I think it will be easier for us to transcend mere duty and make love our motivating factor for following our Heavenly Father's commandments.</div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-56416979937514019362011-01-22T11:31:00.004-07:002012-05-16T15:36:01.158-06:00Mwahahahaha, I am finals' week, hear me roar!It's Finals Week, and can I just say- writing finals for other people to take is so much more fun than taking them yourself. There is this sadistic little joy in it, which I tried really, really hard not to enjoy ... too much.<br />
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I had my kids write a paragraph about a topic of their choice and wouldn't you know it, some of the kids that I thought didn't know how to write at all actually gave me fabulous paragraphs. Now I just have to figure out how to convince them to write that well all the time, and they'll be golden.<br />
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I was pleasantly surprised and often amused by some of the responses I got. Here are a few of my favorites.<br />
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<b>Prompt about your favorite person:</b><br />
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"If you think I'm crazy by myself, well then just wait until you see me and my couzin together. Were wild monkeys going crazy over their bananas."<br />
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"When I left I started to cry so much, I made a swimming pool in the room."<br />
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<b>Prompt about how to teach someone to play a sport:</b><br />
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"When you throw a football, you flick your arm like you were flicking a booger."<br />
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<b>Prompt about a favorite trip:</b><br />
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"After about four rides I threw up. I had a blast!" (I don't think he was meaning to be puny, but I absolutely love how this one turned out)<br />
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I love grading my students' paragraphs, because they show a depth and a sincerity that often does not show through their hardened, high school facade. It gives me hope that they are diamonds in the rough, and with a little polishing they will turn out well in the end.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-75009017008126561442011-01-14T15:48:00.007-07:002012-05-16T15:37:06.058-06:00Music Mania<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TTDUMFNFtaI/AAAAAAAAAc0/N-E3TgQxzn8/s1600/ed5.gif"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562178843823158690" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TTDUMFNFtaI/AAAAAAAAAc0/N-E3TgQxzn8/s320/ed5.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 230px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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I have read numerous articles in past years expressing concern that kids just aren't learning musical instruments as much anymore. Money, opportunity and interest all play a factor in the decrease in musicality in the modern generation.<br />
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I was chatting with some of my students today and I asked them what instruments they played.</div>
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"Aw, Ms. Warren, my parents made me learn violin," complained one student.</div>
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"I studied cello for years," explained another. </div>
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"My parents spent a lot of money to get me Rock Bank," stated a student. "I have been really practicing for the last few years and I think I'm getting really good." </div>
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Hey, why bother learning real guitar when you can just bust out your skills in a video game?</div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-49653597527262075252011-01-13T13:53:00.006-07:002012-05-16T15:38:31.654-06:00A polychromatic day<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TS-LXhOtnBI/AAAAAAAAAcs/2g3zJIQDw8I/s1600/teacher%252520cartoon.png"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561817300999183378" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TS-LXhOtnBI/AAAAAAAAAcs/2g3zJIQDw8I/s320/teacher%252520cartoon.png" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 310px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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One of my school kids told a funny joke to me today. "Ms. Warren, where would gangsters live in a jacket?" he asked. </div>
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"I don't know, the pocket?" I responded.</div>
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"Nope, in da hood!" he quipped.</div>
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Although it's only been eight short years since I graduated from high school, I can still see a drastic changes in the social scene from when I went.</div>
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I went to a high school in northern California that had students from 28 different countries. The demographics were broken down roughly into a third caucasian, a third Hispanic and a third of everything else mixed together. There wasn't much contention between the different groups. In fact, there was hardly mixing of the groups at all. Everyone kind of kept to themselves.</div>
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At lunch, your race generally determined where you would ate- Hispanics munched in the cafeteria, Polynesians and African Americans dominated the quad, Asians lived it up in the AP classrooms and the white people ate pretty much everywhere else. That division of races was often reflected in every aspect of the social scene.</div>
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One day in the 11th grade, I went to the cafeteria because my Latina friend from church had invited me to sit with her during lunch. I still remember my feeling of discomfort as I walked across that seemingly endless cafeteria to where she sat, with a hundred pairs of eyes boring into me. While no one seemed angry about my presence in the room, it seemed like they couldn't figure out why I was there. I felt so awkward that I never attempted to cross that boundary again.</div>
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My first day of my teaching position at a local high school in Nevada, I felt taken aback by how those boundaries and barriers of race were being torn down. I noticed dozens of mixed-race couples strolling hand-in-hand down the halls. I observed groups of friends that were like kaleidoscopes of different colors.</div>
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Of course, I still see evidence of those walls on a daily basis. I hear more racial slurs uttered in a single class period than in an episode of the George Lopez show. One day at lunch, we had a school-wide brawl between "the Rednecks and the Mexicans." The entire school turned out for the fight and the administration had to ring the bell 15 minutes early to break it up.</div>
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I am excited for the changes I am seeing as I see those racial boundaries coming down. I only hope that we can keep moving in a direction that pulls us together instead of further wedging us apart. </div>
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</div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-71767964936737698152011-01-11T14:24:00.006-07:002012-05-16T15:39:48.021-06:00More good in the hood<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TSzd8EhxhzI/AAAAAAAAAcg/buLX2NpounA/s1600/edu81.gif"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561063663973009202" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TSzd8EhxhzI/AAAAAAAAAcg/buLX2NpounA/s320/edu81.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 298px;" /></a><br />
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Today my students wrote a prompt about what they would do in the case of a natural disaster. I told them I expected a strong first sentence and some really good details. My favorite response: "I would knock over a 7-11 and get some munchies. I would get RC Cola and some chips. Then I would steal a car and head for Mexico." The prompt was decorated with lovely drawing of 'shrooms.</div>
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Ah, our future is in good hands. </div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-30402096225568037592011-01-07T13:43:00.021-07:002012-05-16T15:43:29.047-06:00Musings of a high school teacher<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TSeZo9BRCcI/AAAAAAAAAcY/liey5u5bM0g/s1600/teach.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559581193865857474" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TSeZo9BRCcI/AAAAAAAAAcY/liey5u5bM0g/s320/teach.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 230px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 219px;" /></a><br />
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<strong>In October of last year, I took over a literacy class for freshmen at a local high school. The previous teacher had something of a nervous breakdown caysed by the behavioral issues in the class. Every teacher or adminstrator I ran into before starting the job gave me this look that said, "poor thing, it was nice knowing you" accompanied by an affectionate parting pat on the arm. One person even went so far as to say, "doom doom!" I had just watched the fabulous film "Freedom Writers" and was confident that I, too, could make all the kids like me, solve all their personal problems, and look as good as Hillary Swank in the process. Ah, the sweet naivete of one about to be thrown into a den of lions.</strong></div>
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<strong>I inherited a naturally wild bunch who were used to free reign and disrespecting ... well, everything and everyone. </strong></div>
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<strong>As I have acquired the skills and learned the plans for fighting in that great battlefield known as teaching, I have had some interesting experiences. Here are some of my favorites:</strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><strong>I</strong></span> have to explain to my kids, down to the minutest of details, exactly what I expect of them. "Yes, I DO expect you to fill out your workbook." "No, I DO NOT want you to pick your nose and wipe it on the girl next to you." "Yes, coming is required to pass the class."<br />
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Each day, they are required to put their books and folders into a hanging file in a metal cabinet. And every day, I have to threaten, plead, beg and bribe them to do it properly. At the end of the day, all my labors are usually rewarded with a drawer stuffed full of chaos- folders mixed up, books jammed into the back, things ripped apart. <br />
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One day, I opened up the drawer for fourth period and could only stare with my mouth gaping open. It was unbelievable- it was neat, orderly and every folder was in alphabetical order. I swore that for just a moment, I could hear choirs of angels singing. (although, it might have just been my Pandora playing in the background) I quickly sent up some thoughts of gratitude to heaven, for I knew that only higher powers could produce such a miracle.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">O</span>ne</strong> of my more difficult students has trouble keeping things from dropping- his grades, his test scores, his pants. One day he received notice to go to the office post haste to have his picture taken for the yearbook. As he sauntered out of the classroom, I asked him to make sure to pull up his pants, and then I closed the door behind him. A minute passed, then the student surprised all of us by flinging open the door, mooning the classroom, then running down the hall like a bat out of heck. <br />
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I'll admit it- I burst out laughing. What else could I do? I tried in vain to get the class back on task for the last fifteen minutes of class, but after having "the incident" it was really hard to go back to thinking about double negatives. So I let them have some free time and went back to my desk, giggling to myself about my interesting life.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><strong>My</strong> </span>fourth period class is often pretty rowdy and it takes forever for them to get settled down for our ten minutes of reading time every day. Even after we get things settled, there is always that one kid that becomes fascinated with his own ability to make convincing cat noises, the student performing a STOMP audition with a pencil on his desk, or my personal favorite- the ever-flatulent boy doing a tuba impression in the back of the room. (I make sure in every seating change that he stays right where he is- on the opposite end of the room.)<br />
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As I was typing up some assignments during their reading time one day, I noticed that there was something amiss and I couldn't quite figure out what it was. Finally, it dawned on me- they were quiet. As I looked around in amazement, I realized that every single student was completely absorbed in reading their book. For some of these kids, it might be the longest uninterrupted period of time they have ever read a book. <br />
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It is moments like these that keep me from screaming "Adios muchachos!" flinging away my badge, and running down the hall, cackling maniacally at my joy of never again having to deal with another obnoxious teenager.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">I</span></strong> told one my kids today that I used to have a twin, but that she was evil and I killed her. The student looked at me in horror and didn't seem to believe it when I told her I was kidding. I guess I need to keep the sarcasm on the DL until I have older, or more cynical students. <br />
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<span style="font-size: 130%;"><strong>I</strong> </span>often wonder if my school kids like me at all. My mother, a veteran in the teaching trenches, told me not to worry about it. She explained that fear is more essential in classroom management than friendliness and being liked. But I can't help but wonder all the same. <br />
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There is a good chance I will be replaced by a more certified teacher in two weeks. One of my students asked me if I knew whether I would be staying around next semester and I told him my chances looked bleak. I half expected him to jump on the desk, yell "woo hoo!" and do a victory dance. Much to my surprise, however, he actually looked crestfallen and declared they they would stage a protest if I was not rehired. That made me grin the rest of the day. And it didn't hurt his chances of getting a decent grade either.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: 130%;">I</span></strong> wish there was an "Overheard in the Classroom" Web site for all of the funny things that are said at school. Today I attended a weekly meeting for the English department of our high school and all of the teachers were comparing funny stories. One comment in particular really stood out. "This has actually been a pretty calm, uninteresting year. I mean, no one has even tried to light my desk on fire yet!" If that is truly the standard for a boring year, then I think perhaps teachers are more hardcore than we give them credit for. <br />
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<strong>I am truly grateful for all of the experiences I have had thus far as a high school teacher. While the first words that come to mind about this job are exhausting, frustrating, demanding, and <em>exhausting</em>, there is also a satisfaction that I have rarely known in my work. And I stand in awe of the amazing teachers and staff who give their lives in educating these great kids. </strong>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-62499717366719229332010-11-24T20:28:00.012-07:002012-05-16T15:45:12.431-06:00Bob the Wal*mart employee- A character sketch<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TO3hAwQbJII/AAAAAAAAAbU/AgH_aw5givQ/s1600/ap_walmart_070618_ms.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543334119432987778" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TO3hAwQbJII/AAAAAAAAAbU/AgH_aw5givQ/s320/ap_walmart_070618_ms.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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I generally find that Wal-mart employees* fit into one of three categories. First, there's Polite-Smile, who is friendly in a detached sort of way and who smiles big while serving you, only to let their face slide back into a blank stare the moment you turn away. Then there's Blatantly-Irritated, the employee that doesn't even hide the fact that they hate you and would rather shove bamboo shoots up their fingernails than help you find a new microwave. Finally, there Just-Plain-Crazy, the type that looks at you with large, bloodshot eyes before hightailing it in the opposite direction. If I worked at Wal-mart, I would probably be the last one. <br />
As I was sitting in Wallie World for four hours today, waiting for my tires to be changed, I had the chance to meet an odd fellow that didn't really fit into any of my previously noted categories. I will call him Bob (I don't really think Bob would read my blog, but you never really know. Heck, for all I know, we could be facebook friends... )<br />
I was sitting on a bench in the tire section, staring into the distance, thinking profound thoughts (probably about which Harry Potter movie is the best) when I was suddenly pulled from my reverie by a high-pitched peal of nervous giggling. I had never heard such a noise before and quickly scanned the aisles for the source. That's when I noticed Bob. With a profound resemblance to a hobbit, Bob boasts about five feet of height, a rotund belly and hairy arms. Everything about him screams "uncontained!" from his wild, unkempt hair, his hyper gait and a speaking voice most akin to a nervous scream. <br />
Bob loved to chat. He chatted with me about the book I was reading. He chatted with the rather stern-looking gentleman about why Ritz crackers are better than Saltines in Oyster stew. And he chatted with the teenage gal with the "I <3 Italia" sweatshirt about why she should love Sicilians instead. (A particularly long conversation that made everyone, including her humongous boyfriend, feel a little uncomfortable.)<br />
I'll admit it- Bob made me nervous with his unconventional social skills. But he also made for a delightful conversation counterpart, was a dedicated and friendly employee, and he livened up my waiting time immensely. So, cheers to Bob.<br />
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*This post is in no way meant as a critique of Wal-mart employees. I think that anybody working at such a stressful job would exhibit similar traits. Thank you for all your hard work and your low, low prices.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-73735954802549041962010-08-11T17:38:00.017-06:002010-08-12T10:32:34.480-06:00And the personality award goes to ...<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/bwarren/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/01/clip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <p class="MsoNormal">... the small stores of Chester, California. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">One of the things that always strikes me about small towns like Chester is the lack of the corporate. No Wal-mart, Kinko's, Starbucks or Wendy's brandished its cloned presence in this small haven. In fact, the only mainstream name I saw was Subway, and the shop was closed down.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now, I am not a total hater of the corporate chain. I so sympathize with the mom and pop stores that get closed down when these corporate behemoth's roll into town. But my greatest commodity is time and these places are just so convenient. </p> <span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:";font-size:100%;" >Anyway, I loved driving through Chester because of the creative store names. The pics below represent my favorites of this edition of "tHE pERSOnaLITy aWarD."</span>
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<br />Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-37973717657322537402010-08-05T17:43:00.133-06:002010-08-07T15:23:08.427-06:00Surviving the most boring drive of all time (Sights to see en route from Provo to Reno)<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/bwarren/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/04/clip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; 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mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1371221254 1863251774 -792038716 614495084 1511576800 975203120 -1826183944 1013977502 1391231952 1448894316;} @list l1:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1414203123; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:1793249210 -1717554780 -916918700 -1143181676 -1748331464 -1603389740 -1449910878 626134108 1855619080 1117419882;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="font-size:100%;">"I am so bored, I could just die!"
<br />Anyone who has driven along Interstate 80 between Salt Lake City, Utah and Reno, NV knows how true this phrase can be. The drive is long, straight, toasty and uninterrupted by interesting scenery. It would be all too easy to let those heavy, drooping eyelids close, which isn't usually a good idea when traveling at 75-84 miles per hour. The trail is peppered with little crosses, a testament of how important it is to have something to look for, to keep your attention focused.
<br />Keeping this in mind the last time I braved the boring journey, I decided to capture images of the landmarks I look for along the way. I also dug up some fun history facts, to have a better idea of what I was looking for. So, the next time you have to make the sojourn, take a gander at these fun and historical landmarks. And don't forget- keep those eyes open.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText">
<br /></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoBodyText">The Hills ARE Alive</p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzkPxaP99I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/Rtnnd2lBTAA/s1600/road+signs+075.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 209px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzkPxaP99I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/Rtnnd2lBTAA/s320/road+signs+075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502523804352509906" border="0" /></a></div> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">After making one last pit stop in Salt Lake City to gas up, run to the lou (a.k.a. British speak for restroom) and buy an overpriced bag of beef jerky, the eager traveler sets out along I-80, not anticipating a very exciting journey. If this traveler spends too much time peering at the last traces of civilization in the rearview mirror, they might miss an amusing sight- the hills are peering back too. Several little hills have faces built into them. If you can find this hill to the right, there is a set of eyes dangling in two little caves. I have counted at least three faces along the journey- see if you can find more than me!</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
<br /></span></span></p><p face="times new roman" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">p.s. If you decide to take a picture of these small landmarks, I would recommend either bringing a friend or pulling over. Let's just say that doing it while driving could potentially defeat our goal of not suffering a fiery demise.</span>
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<br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="font-size:100%;">Saltair III: The Bathhouse</span></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="font-weight: normal;">A matter of 14 miles brings our intrepid traveler to the briny edges of the Great Salt Lake. The lake stretches for miles of uninterrupted monotony, a rather dreary sight to see. But after a few twists and turns of the road, a</span> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">strange shape begins to form in the distance, hovering on the edge of the lake. As the windy path draws closer, a large, Moorish-style building begins to take shape, its ornate domes and arches out of place on the ascetic landscape. All too soon, the road curves away, leaving the traveler to wonder, "what on earth was that?"</span></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold; font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoBodyText">
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<br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzkwxXja0I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/UoY_0RCHiBY/s1600/road+signs+073.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 169px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzkwxXja0I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/UoY_0RCHiBY/s320/road+signs+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502524371276884802" border="0" /></a><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzlN2sZD8I/AAAAAAAAAaE/-4sZU4Ppwl8/s1600/road+signs+072.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 171px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzlN2sZD8I/AAAAAAAAAaE/-4sZU4Ppwl8/s320/road+signs+072.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502524870922670018" border="0" /></a>
<br /><div face="times new roman" style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzkPxaP99I/AAAAAAAAAZ0/Rtnnd2lBTAA/s1600/road+signs+075.jpg">
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >"That" is Saltair III, a shadow of a once-glorious resort. The orig</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >inal Saltair opened in 1893, according to the <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://ludb.clui.org/ex/i/UT3156/">Center for Land Use Interpretation</a><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">.</span> The resort grew to include a roller coaster, a 1,000-seat cafe and even boasted having the world's largest dance floor. A stairway led guests to the water level, where they would try to sink in the salty brine of the lake.
<br />The resort met its demise in 1926 when the building was destroyed by a fire. Although many tried to restore the edifice to its glory days, a series of unfortunate disasters always left the resort a shade of its former self. </span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >"Saltair III," located a few miles west of the original site, offers a large rental space for events, and also a gift shop and snack bar for those intrepid visitors willing to make the stop. </span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Drowsy Drivers</span>
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mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1414203123; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:1793249210 -1717554780 -916918700 -1143181676 -1748331464 -1603389740 -1449910878 626134108 1855619080 1117419882;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzjn3dZWzI/AAAAAAAAAZs/1VkGGBsnuKQ/s1600/road+signs+076.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 210px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzjn3dZWzI/AAAAAAAAAZs/1VkGGBsnuKQ/s320/road+signs+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502523118781553458" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >Since 2006, Utah has averaged </span><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >32 deaths and</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> 1,220 crashes each year from drowsy drivers, </span>according to the <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://publicsafety.utah.gov/highwaysafety/Drowsy_Driving.html">Utah Department of Public Safety.</a><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >To remind people of the risks involved with drowsy driving, the state of Utah put up a series of these signs to remind people to get the sleep they need before embarking on this long journey. </span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >The following warning signs might signal the need for a cat nap or a change of drivers:</span>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"><link style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/bwarren/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/04/clip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} @font-face {font-family:"\@Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} h1 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:1; font-size:24.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; mso-font-kerning:18.0pt; font-weight:bold;} h2 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:2; font-size:18.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} h3 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:3; font-size:13.5pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} p.MsoBodyText, li.MsoBodyText, div.MsoBodyText {margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:maroon;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} p {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.mediumheadblack {mso-style-name:mediumheadblack;} p.mediumbodyblack, li.mediumbodyblack, div.mediumbodyblack {mso-style-name:mediumbodyblack; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.italic {mso-style-name:italic;} p.lookback, li.lookback, div.lookback {mso-style-name:lookback; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:78716946; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:145645068 1527929698 288497604 -341833408 1571080758 -128394144 -276401592 -1111873592 1781842540 1016751450;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l1 {mso-list-id:965546030; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1371221254 1863251774 -792038716 614495084 1511576800 975203120 -1826183944 1013977502 1391231952 1448894316;} @list l1:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1414203123; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:1793249210 -1717554780 -916918700 -1143181676 -1748331464 -1603389740 -1449910878 626134108 1855619080 1117419882;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >• Difficulty focusing, frequent blinking or heavy eyelids
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<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" > • Daydreaming or wandering thoughts
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<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" > • Trouble remembering the last few miles driven
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<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" > • Yawning repeatedly or rubbing your eyes
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<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > • Trouble keeping your head up</span>
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<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" > <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">• Drifting from your lane, tailgating, or hitting a shoulder rumble strip</span>
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<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:12pt;" ><span style="font-size:100%;"> • Feeling restless and irritable</span>
<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >(source: The Utah Department of Public Safety)</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >Leaving your mark</span></span>
<br /></div><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">In my family, we have something of an absurd</span> </span><a style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzjD6eQDEI/AAAAAAAAAZk/Ja-6CoxALOI/s1600/road+signs+078.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 219px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzjD6eQDEI/AAAAAAAAAZk/Ja-6CoxALOI/s320/road+signs+078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502522501115153474" border="0" /></a>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >tradition - one mention of anything Christmas related, and one member in particular will start singing carols, even up to six months early! If you have someone in your family that does that, you might want to make sure they are asleep for the next hour of the journey, because you are about to enter what appears to be a winter wonderland- the Bonneville Salt Flats. </span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Stretching for miles in white, salty goodness, the salt flats are almost perfectly flat. Travelers take the opportunity to leave their mark for everyone to see, hauling rocks from the side of the road to leave little messages or symbols in the salt. Word to the wise- the salt can do nasty things to the bottom of your car, so get a wash later. And, really low cars can get a stuck in the rainy/ snowy seasons. </span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">Metaphor</span>: The Tree of Utah</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >By this point in the journey, all the diet soda and water our traveler drank at the beginning is starting to make nature come a'calling, causing them to look eagerly into the distance for any semblance of a rest stop. Before one appears, however, a very different figure materializes on the side of the road. It looks like an alien tree, surrounded on the bottom by little slices of orange peels. Even upon closer inspection, it appears that martians are giving Aladdin and his palace a run for his money on strange desert architecture.</span>
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<br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzh1YT2DYI/AAAAAAAAAZU/YMGY1E4bIyk/s1600/road+signs+082.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 321px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzh1YT2DYI/AAAAAAAAAZU/YMGY1E4bIyk/s320/road+signs+082.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502521151914904962" border="0" /></a><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzimPTKu-I/AAAAAAAAAZc/03GLkmIH7Do/s1600/road+signs+081.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzimPTKu-I/AAAAAAAAAZc/03GLkmIH7Do/s320/road+signs+081.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502521991309736930" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >According to the </span><a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: times new roman;" href="http://www.utah.com/amusement/metaphor_tree.htm">Utah Travel Industry Web site,</a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > this abstract sculpture was in fact made my aliens ... but not the little green kind. Swedish artist Karl Momen furnished the 87-foot-high tree to spruce up the barren landscape of the salt flats with color and beauty. Working on the project from 1982-1986, Momen then donated the work to the state of Utah before returning to his native land.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >The Bonneville Speedway</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >While the 75-mile-per-hour speed limit on I-80 might seem like a rushed pace, the speeds at the Bonneville Speedway make those numbers pale in comparison. The uniquely flat landscape has enabled speed junkies to break records since daredevil Teddy Tezlaff first set the unofficial record of 141.73 m.p.h in the year 1914, according to the <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.utah.com/playgrounds/bonneville_salt.htm">Utah Travel Industry Web site</a>. This straightaway provided the perfect course to break the 300, 400, 500 and 600 m.p.h. speed barriers. </span></div>
<br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzgHXr96GI/AAAAAAAAAZE/zUQFQJOs-Ig/s1600/road+signs+086.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 182px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzgHXr96GI/AAAAAAAAAZE/zUQFQJOs-Ig/s320/road+signs+086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502519261962037346" border="0" /></a><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzguR1ZAzI/AAAAAAAAAZM/FPuq7PAYcYw/s1600/road+signs+089.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 179px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzguR1ZAzI/AAAAAAAAAZM/FPuq7PAYcYw/s320/road+signs+089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502519930405847858" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Every year mid-August, petrol, diesel, and nitro heads gather to race and try to set new records at Speed Week. For more info, contact the Bureau of Land Management, Salt Lake District, 801.977.4300</span>
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<br /></span>Emmigrant markings
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >You've crossed the line</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Ever wanted to be in two places at once? A quick drive down the main thoroughfare of Wendover will let you straddle the Utah/ Nevada state line. Careful if you run into the street to take a picture - from my experience, it would seem people here like to play chicken with pedestrians. </span>
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<br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzc-gMAoZI/AAAAAAAAAYs/Hk0p8NXfKMY/s1600/road+signs+006.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 170px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzc-gMAoZI/AAAAAAAAAYs/Hk0p8NXfKMY/s320/road+signs+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502515811090211218" border="0" /></a><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzeMvYNufI/AAAAAAAAAY0/WSf6C13iJrE/s1600/road+signs+005.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 165px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzeMvYNufI/AAAAAAAAAY0/WSf6C13iJrE/s320/road+signs+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502517155197729266" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Wendover is a good city to stop in, because the restaurants and casinos have nicer bathrooms than you will find anywhere else along the way.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Winking Wendover Will </span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >On the Western tip of Wendover's main road, a rakish, 64-foot-tall cowboy greets weary travelers on their way through town. The sheet-metal giant got his name from William Smith, a drifter who rolled into town in the mid-1920s, bought up several small establishments, and is credited with introducing round-the-clock business hours to the town, according to an 2006<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span></span><a style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.americanheritage.com/articles/magazine/ah/2006/3/2006_3_13.shtml">article</a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"> </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">on the American Heritage Web site.</span></span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Smith erected Wendover Will in 1952, and Will winked at travelers and smoked his cigarette until Smith's property changed hands in 2002, and Will was resigned to spend an early retirement in storage. Members of the community, eager to have a city monument, refurbished the old cowboy and rededicated him on his current roosting ground west of the city in 2005.</span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">All hail the heroes of World War I</span></span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Along a quiet stretch of road next to Wendover Will stands a little monument. If our traveler passes it by without a second glance, they would miss out on a historical treasure.</span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">In the summer of 1921, three years after the end of the first World War, community members in Kansas met together and decided to build a monument, a road that would span the entire length of the country, honoring the fallen warriors of the war, according to</span> </span><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">The Museum of Northwest Colorado Web site.</span></a>
<br /></span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><link style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/bwarren/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/05/clip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} @font-face {font-family:"\@Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} h1 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:1; font-size:24.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; mso-font-kerning:18.0pt; font-weight:bold;} h2 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:2; font-size:18.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} h3 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:3; font-size:13.5pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} p.MsoBodyText, li.MsoBodyText, div.MsoBodyText {margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:maroon;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} p {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.mediumheadblack {mso-style-name:mediumheadblack;} p.mediumbodyblack, li.mediumbodyblack, div.mediumbodyblack {mso-style-name:mediumbodyblack; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.italic {mso-style-name:italic;} p.lookback, li.lookback, div.lookback {mso-style-name:lookback; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:78716946; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:145645068 1527929698 288497604 -341833408 1571080758 -128394144 -276401592 -1111873592 1781842540 1016751450;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l1 {mso-list-id:965546030; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1371221254 1863251774 -792038716 614495084 1511576800 975203120 -1826183944 1013977502 1391231952 1448894316;} @list l1:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1414203123; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:1793249210 -1717554780 -916918700 -1143181676 -1748331464 -1603389740 -1449910878 626134108 1855619080 1117419882;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style> <p class="lookback"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >The citizens of cities across the country made Victory Highway, or US-40, a reality. Monuments engraved with the names of those lost honored the fallen statewide, while engraved statues of bald eagles commemorated those lost in each county.</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" > At the crossroads of Wendover, an archway, a bald eagle statue, and various plaques teach about this road, as well as various other historical pathways that run through the area.</span>
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<br /><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzWiQcoOsI/AAAAAAAAAX0/-r6Ffz_dn1c/s1600/road+signs+021.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzWiQcoOsI/AAAAAAAAAX0/-r6Ffz_dn1c/s400/road+signs+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502508728758844098" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzV4GHYdHI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Z0B4XCF2xoM/s1600/road+signs+023.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFzV4GHYdHI/AAAAAAAAAXs/Z0B4XCF2xoM/s400/road+signs+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502508004430869618" border="0" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">Westward ho!</span>
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<br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFxnTD960uI/AAAAAAAAAUM/zVPg5vAMwxk/s1600/road+signs+029.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 202px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFxnTD960uI/AAAAAAAAAUM/zVPg5vAMwxk/s320/road+signs+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502386421920092898" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">In pioneer days, emigrants bound for California, Oregon and Utah shared the same route for hundreds of miles, resulting in the name the Oregon-California Trail. According to the</span> <a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);" href="http://www.emigranttrailswest.org/caltrail.htm">Emigrant Trail West Web site,</a> </span><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><link style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/bwarren/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/05/clip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} @font-face {font-family:"\@Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} h1 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:1; font-size:24.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; mso-font-kerning:18.0pt; font-weight:bold;} h2 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:2; font-size:18.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} h3 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:3; font-size:13.5pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} p.MsoBodyText, li.MsoBodyText, div.MsoBodyText {margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:maroon;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} p {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.mediumheadblack {mso-style-name:mediumheadblack;} p.mediumbodyblack, li.mediumbodyblack, div.mediumbodyblack {mso-style-name:mediumbodyblack; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.italic {mso-style-name:italic;} p.lookback, li.lookback, div.lookback {mso-style-name:lookback; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:78716946; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:145645068 1527929698 288497604 -341833408 1571080758 -128394144 -276401592 -1111873592 1781842540 1016751450;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l1 {mso-list-id:965546030; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1371221254 1863251774 -792038716 614495084 1511576800 975203120 -1826183944 1013977502 1391231952 1448894316;} @list l1:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1414203123; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:1793249210 -1717554780 -916918700 -1143181676 -1748331464 -1603389740 -1449910878 626134108 1855619080 1117419882;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >as many as 300,000 emigrants traversed these trails before the start of the Civil War. </span>
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<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 9"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/bwarren/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msoclip1/05/clip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotoptimizeforbrowser/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} @font-face {font-family:"\@Arial Unicode MS"; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1 -369098753 63 0 4129279 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} h1 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:1; font-size:24.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; mso-font-kerning:18.0pt; font-weight:bold;} h2 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:2; font-size:18.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} h3 {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-outline-level:3; font-size:13.5pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS"; font-weight:bold;} p.MsoBodyText, li.MsoBodyText, div.MsoBodyText {margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; color:maroon;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} p {margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.mediumheadblack {mso-style-name:mediumheadblack;} p.mediumbodyblack, li.mediumbodyblack, div.mediumbodyblack {mso-style-name:mediumbodyblack; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} span.italic {mso-style-name:italic;} p.lookback, li.lookback, div.lookback {mso-style-name:lookback; margin-right:0in; mso-margin-top-alt:auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0in; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Arial Unicode MS";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:78716946; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:145645068 1527929698 288497604 -341833408 1571080758 -128394144 -276401592 -1111873592 1781842540 1016751450;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l1 {mso-list-id:965546030; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1371221254 1863251774 -792038716 614495084 1511576800 975203120 -1826183944 1013977502 1391231952 1448894316;} @list l1:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} @list l2 {mso-list-id:1414203123; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:1793249210 -1717554780 -916918700 -1143181676 -1748331464 -1603389740 -1449910878 626134108 1855619080 1117419882;} @list l2:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.5in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Symbol;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:12pt;" ></span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >My kingdom for an iPod</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >When our now-dusty traveler is about 35 miles out of the town of Wells, a static storm will take over the radio and the search for a clear channel will provo fruitile. Best to have an iPod hook up or book on tape at the ready for the next hour or so. </span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Tongue Twister</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-family:times new roman;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">I am easily amused, as anyone who knows me will</span> </span><a style="font-family: times new roman; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtcN8D187I/AAAAAAAAATk/tlpnloJtKGQ/s1600/road+signs+053.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 210px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtcN8D187I/AAAAAAAAATk/tlpnloJtKGQ/s320/road+signs+053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502092764293493682" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >attest. Whenever I see this sign, I usually spend at least 10 minutes cheerfully trying out different ways to try to pronounce the name. In all my searching, I couldn't find a suitable definition for the word Pequop. There really isn't anything to see - and that's the point. The area is a wildlife conservancy, protecting the area's deer and other fauna from the effects of mining and excessive gaming. </span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" >Honey, grab the camera!</span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >One roadsign in particular in near and dear to my heart, probably because it cracks me up everytime. "Deeth Starr Valley" has humored travelers for years, leading to such blog posts as "Deeth Starr Valley: Home of Dork Vader." To the creator of this humorous name: thanks for the laughs!</span>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtZtrSbTcI/AAAAAAAAATM/LHgFpGjZDhg/s1600/road+signs+067.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 173px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtZtrSbTcI/AAAAAAAAATM/LHgFpGjZDhg/s320/road+signs+067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502090011012189634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtaUVktYbI/AAAAAAAAATU/KWWiZB82My8/s1600/road+signs+063.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 169px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtaUVktYbI/AAAAAAAAATU/KWWiZB82My8/s320/road+signs+063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502090675198190002" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Not long after passing the above signs, our traveler begins to see less amusing ones, like "Prison Area: No Hitchhiking" and "Prison Area: Report shooting from freeway." Ironically, the state prison is located in Independence Valley. Either someone was saying "neener neener neener" to the prisoners, or this is just a classic case of middle-of-nowhere Nevada irony.</span>
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<br /><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtYxOlktDI/AAAAAAAAATE/bhQ_ID4OqtQ/s1600/road+signs+069.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/TFtYxOlktDI/AAAAAAAAATE/bhQ_ID4OqtQ/s320/road+signs+069.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502088972515718194" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >As Reno nears and Utah fades into a dusty memory, beautiful vistas like this one begins to fill up your windshield. Thus brings us to the end of our trail together. I would love to hear of any other spots you have found along the trail. </span>
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<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:times new roman;" >Happy trails.</span>
<br />Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-75634798354552089612010-05-05T20:02:00.006-06:002010-05-18T13:31:59.226-06:00Joe at the Laundromat<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/S-Ij_roluMI/AAAAAAAAASA/Ux-1H1euaYA/s1600/me+with+little+girls+in+central+park.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467972474532903106" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/S-Ij_roluMI/AAAAAAAAASA/Ux-1H1euaYA/s320/me+with+little+girls+in+central+park.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">I met some lovely little mini-people in the park the other day. We had an in-depth conversation about the virtues of sparkly rocks and we discussed the best way to climb to the top of the boulder next to me. Although simple, it was probably the best conversation I had all day.</span><br /><br /><strong>Happy 5th of May! Feliz Cinco de Mayo!</strong><br />Being sick has its advantages. For example, it can take you out of your routine and put in the right place at the right time to meet some interesting characters. Take "joe" for instance. (His name is rabbit-eared because we didn't actually exchange names, but he totally looked like a joe) Anywho, I did laundry for my first time in the city at the laundromat on the corner today. I quickly remembered the joys of doing laundry in a quarter-starved, public laundromat: chill-axing to the lovely hum of driers, reading a good book and taking ample time for people-watching. As I sat down on a squeaky, blue chair to enjoy a borrowed copy of the book "Who moved my Cheese?" I noticed a hulkish man. Well, he was more of a mountain of flesh than a man. This guy was huge! His shoulders were as wide and muscular as the bronze bull's on Wall Street. With a noggin as bare as a bowling ball and tattoed arms the diameter of my legs, he appeared every inch the bad boy. Despite his menacing appearance, he sported a quizzical, lost expression on his face reminiscent of a little boy who has lost his mom at the grocery store. He was staring at a washing maching while his right arm hovered in the air, a single-use box of Tide clutched in his massive paw.<br /><br />I asked if he were a body builder. He stood up real tall, flexed his mammoth arms and informed me of his six-time world champion status as a power builder. It might have made a really manly impression, were it not for the detergent box still hovering in his hand. I showed him how to operate the washing machine as he explained that it was his first time using a laundry machine ever. I thought I was a little behind the laundry game when I did my first load of laundry during my first week of college. I dyed all of my clothes different colors, then ended up spending about $10 a week doing a separate load for every single color. EVERY single color.<br /><br />So what did I learn from Joe? I realized that it is never too late to learn how to do things. I could tell Joe was nervous and kind of embarassed about not knowing how to do laundry at his age. But he went for it and acquired a new skill. So, Joe inspired me to learn a particular skill many other has already learned at my age. Wish me luck on my attempt to acquire mad skills in ... well, I will let you know once I get it.<br /><br /><br /><div></div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-60175717437858247082010-05-02T19:05:00.005-06:002012-05-16T15:54:44.508-06:00Springing into NYCToday I met so many interesting people with stories to share with me as I played the part of the intrepid traveler.<br />
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As I waited for my the airline ticket taker to announce B 30-60 in the terminal of the Las VegasAirport, I decided to kill time by doing a little people watching. I soon noticed one woman in particular. Short, blonde, mid-50s and not inheritantly attention getting, what really caught my eye were her accessories. She had four massive, curved tubes tied together and slung over her shoulder, looking every part the huntress with a big mass of bows. I jokingly asked her if she was going to use the tubes to make a giant hula hoop ... turns out, I nailed it on the head. Even though she was in what many consider the autumn of life, she has decided to pick up the hobby of doing tricks with hula hoops. She learned the tricks and how to make her special hula hoop watching videos on YouTube. The tubes looked like they would make a heavy, huge hula hoop (when put together, the tubes would have made a hoop over four feet long). Even though she had the waistline of a 13-year-old girl on a liquid diet, the woman insisted that "the bigger and heavier the better!"<br />
As my new friend described her new hobby, a smile with childlike joy extended across her face. It was refreshing to see someone not acting their age, for having the courage and curiosity to take up a new hobby. I'm so inspired, I think I will finally sign up for a hip hop class. What have you always wanted to do that you have been putting off?<br />
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As I waited for the rest of the passengers to file onto the plane in Chicago, I tried to curb my boredom by flipping peanuts in the air and catching them in my mouth. After getting the evil eye from the lady in from of me (a few of my peanuts <em>might</em> have gone astray), I decided people watching would be a safer pasttime. I noticed a particular young woman coming up the aisle. It wasn't just the bright-red-streaked hair, the nose ring, the hands full of exotic-looking silver jewelry or the reflective, neon-yellow Dock Martins she was sporting that drew my attention (although, those shoes were pretty much the coolest thing ever). As she walked up the aisle, I noticed she was smiling - at everyone. I was pleased when we were seated together and had the chance to talk about our shared passions and our very different life plans. <br />
This gal was all about community. She talked about organizing her far-flung family members for activities. She discussed her time as an R.A. at Berkeley working to help other kids develop a sense of family and community with their classmates. We conversed about the power of dance to produce and enforce a sense of community in a group of people.<br />
That made me wonder why we stopped dancing together as a modern society? We used to dance as a community - our grandparents jitterbugged, sock hopped and triple swung 'til the night was day. Now "dancing" usually looks like individuals shuffling around awkwardly or couples that, well, should probably just get a room. Did we, as a modern society, stop dancing together because suddenly those old dances no longer represented the growing diversity of our community? Could a common, communal dance, be a missing ingredient in helping our diverse melting pot take on a cohesive, bonded form?<br />
I love talking to random strangers. I hope I never get too caught up in my own life to stop learning from the random people who fate puts in my path.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-20123482745455930752009-11-17T14:29:00.008-07:002009-11-17T15:59:42.607-07:00Adventures in Zionism<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMV7w_7cpI/AAAAAAAAAPM/kS1QALrsPrU/s1600/z1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMV7w_7cpI/AAAAAAAAAPM/kS1QALrsPrU/s320/z1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405188094284231314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;"> When July came this last summer, we were feeling a severe case of responsibility fever and just needed an adventure. So we packed up our camping gear and headed south to Zions' National Park. I was geeking out over the beautiful vistas and stunning landscapes and my shutter button was hot from over usage as I snapped pic after pic. </span>We decided to begin our adventure hardcore with the five-mile hike up to Angel's Landing, setting out well into the heat of the morning. This would prove a key element in the later turn of events.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMWC29K73I/AAAAAAAAAPU/glzrobksy-U/s1600/z2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMWC29K73I/AAAAAAAAAPU/glzrobksy-U/s320/z2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405188216142360434" border="0" /></a>The hike up to Angel's Landing begins with a series of switchbacks, blessedly paved and sometimes shaded from the beating sun by an occasional tree. We would climb 1488 feet before reaching our destination. I ran out of water at about half that distance, several hours before our experience would be over.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I should probably preface this next part with a brief explanation. I am not afraid of heights. I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">terrified </span>of heights. In elementary school, my friends had to tie me to the teeter-totter, because I would get so scared that I would fall off. So when I first set my eyes on the last half mile of our hike to Angel's Landing, a narrow path with a sheer, 2000-foot drop on either side, I am sure you can imagine my trepidation.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMWPXjYKbI/AAAAAAAAAPc/Tqv8LqfTRGk/s1600/z3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMWPXjYKbI/AAAAAAAAAPc/Tqv8LqfTRGk/s320/z3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405188431050975666" border="0" /></a>In my head, I had already announced to my group of brave and daring friends that I was not going across Angel's Landing. In my head, they said, "O.K., we'll miss you," then when on their merry way. It's funny how life doesn't always turn out like it goes in my head ... When we reached the point of no return, I gallantly announced to the world that there was no way I was going across Angel's Landing and that was that. They looked at me, said, "You're going" and started across. O' well- wouldn't want to miss out on anything fun.<br />I was at the back of the group the whole way, gripping with sweaty palms onto a huge chain, focusing my every thought on placing my foot safely into the next precarious foot hold. My good friend was kind enough to walk behind me, distracting me with a conversation that I will admit I do not remember, but for which I will always be grateful. I never looked down, though it called to me like those jelly donuts on the first day of a new diet. Yet I resisted the gnawing, irritating, overwhelming temptation to look down.<br /><br />We made it. And the view was worth it ... once.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMXbWCvuUI/AAAAAAAAAPk/4hSbVTKJp5E/s1600/z5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMXbWCvuUI/AAAAAAAAAPk/4hSbVTKJp5E/s320/z5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405189736315730242" border="0" /></a>When you <span style="font-style: italic;">finally </span>make it to the top of Angel's Landing, an amazing sight opens before your eyes. The whole length of the canyon, swathed in vibrant greens, tans, browns and reds, is truly stunning. And the altitude sickness makes the experience all the more moving.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Coming down from Angel's Landing, I felt high on my triumph- I had conquered my fears (with some prodding) and scaled the heights of Angel's Landing. To prevent me from becoming too prideful, the hike of the day left me with this parting gift. The hours of toil in the burning sun, with no food and too little water, had left a companion and I with the beginning stages of heat stroke. As I tripped and stumbled my way back down Angel's Landing, beautiful stars began to appear swimming around in my vision. Together with my companion, who was worse off than I, we slumped our way back down the mountain, with a new-found appreciation for the beauty (and dangers) of nature.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMXxZckKII/AAAAAAAAAPs/IlG1pJyYY_0/s1600/z4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/SwMXxZckKII/AAAAAAAAAPs/IlG1pJyYY_0/s320/z4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405190115186452610" border="0" /></a>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-17902287384419590082009-07-26T20:37:00.029-06:002012-05-16T15:56:06.947-06:00Martin/ Willie Handcart company trip<div>
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Some dear friends and I embarked on a grand adventure on the weekend of July 11-13. We toured the church history sites of the Martin and Willie Mormon Handcart Companies in Wyoming. The historical information cited herein is from the Mormon Historic Sites Registry[MHSR]. The following are some of the pictures of our adventures: </div>
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"The first handcart company left Iowa City, Iowa on June 9, 1856 for the Salt Lake Valley. That year, four additional handcart companies would traverse the difficult trail on foot. The fourth company, led by James G. Willie, left on July 15, 1856 and the last company, led by Edward Martin, left on July 28, 1856<br />
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"Although the two companies that left before reached Salt Lake City without incident, Willie and Martin companies left later in the season and suffered tremendous hardships. Jens Neilson, a member of the Willie Handcart Company explained that 'No person can describe it, nor could it be comprehended or understood by any human living in this life, but those who were called to pass through it.'"[MHSR]</div>
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After the passing of more than a century, the ground here still bears the marks of the handcart wheels. We walked along these tracks, imagining what it would be like to pull a handcart with the hot sun beating down. It was humbling, to<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0V35SnytI/AAAAAAAAAL0/JO89ydmFooc/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+017.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362966781284043474" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0V35SnytI/AAAAAAAAAL0/JO89ydmFooc/s320/Wyoming+trip+017.jpg" style="float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 240px;" /></a>say the least, and we felt very close to the brave people who struggled along this path.<br />
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"Leaving so late in the season put the companies at a considerable disadvantage. On October 1 the Willie company arrived at Fort Laramie, but supplies they had hoped for to be left by Franklin D. Richards were not there. They had also suffered a serious loss of a number of oxen which they were unable to replenish there. Hunger, fatigue, and worsening weather conditions each contributed to the grave situation the Saints found themselves in. Upon reaching Salt Lake City on October 4, President Richards alerted Brigham Young to the companies' situation. A rescue party was organized and left three days later to give relief and aid. However, they would not reach the Willie company for three weeks."[MHSR]<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0pqKECClI/AAAAAAAAAMs/5gFXScPoNwA/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+101.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362988535500638802" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0pqKECClI/AAAAAAAAAMs/5gFXScPoNwA/s320/Wyoming+trip+101.jpg" style="float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px;" /></a>The parts of Wyoming we traversed were pretty desolate. We were despairing not being able to see anything different from the grassy slopes and distant mountains. Then we saw an impressive sight- Independence Rock. This massive rock structure stands about half a mile high and boasts an impressive view of the plains. Independence Rock was so named because it was in the pioneer timetable- you needed to reach the spot by the 4th of July is you ever hoped to make it to Utah Valley before the winter storms.</div>
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The rock structured is peppered with graffiti. Unlike the usual variety, the claim-to-fame of Independence Rock is the series of names chiseled into the rock. From the early 1800s 'til present day, pioneers and travelers left their legacy imprinted in the rock.<br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362979787999891394" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0hs_FVT8I/AAAAAAAAAMM/EtwK1h0gZO4/s200/Wyoming+trip+106.jpg" style="display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 150px;" /><br />
We celebrated Independence Rock in our own "special" way...</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0qGdZeADI/AAAAAAAAAM0/GeHxap8QPmQ/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+104.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362989021727162418" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0qGdZeADI/AAAAAAAAAM0/GeHxap8QPmQ/s320/Wyoming+trip+104.jpg" style="height: 320px; width: 240px;" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0qY0UXaVI/AAAAAAAAAM8/adIelFXduTs/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+103.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362989337117419858" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0qY0UXaVI/AAAAAAAAAM8/adIelFXduTs/s320/Wyoming+trip+103.jpg" style="height: 240px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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From Independence Rock, a traveler sees an unusual sight in the distance. Following the path of the Sweetwater River leads one's eyes to a deep gorge cut into the side of a mountain. While the Mormon Handcart companies did not journey through "Devil's Gate", it was an important landmark on their journey.<br />
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"They settled into Martin's Cove to find shelter from the wind. However, several individuals died from exposure in the cove as well. The rest of the rescue party reached them and the finally came into the Salt Lake Valley between November 30 and December 15. In total, 177 individuals lost their lives from the Willie and Martin handcart companies.5 Though they passed through tremendous difficulty, those that survived were ever true and faithful to the gospel. One man who traveled in the Martin Compnany described that 'we came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.'" [MHSR]<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0lTF2YBLI/AAAAAAAAAMc/IYpHIgjUOlE/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+094.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362983741186114738" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0lTF2YBLI/AAAAAAAAAMc/IYpHIgjUOlE/s320/Wyoming+trip+094.jpg" style="height: 164px; width: 196px;" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0mCQtD4fI/AAAAAAAAAMk/uaj90EAAI3w/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+092.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362984551553688050" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0mCQtD4fI/AAAAAAAAAMk/uaj90EAAI3w/s320/Wyoming+trip+092.jpg" style="height: 167px; width: 220px;" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0q5RbHVdI/AAAAAAAAANE/RnYa5eCwhwQ/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+076.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362989894686168530" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0q5RbHVdI/AAAAAAAAANE/RnYa5eCwhwQ/s320/Wyoming+trip+076.jpg" style="height: 164px; width: 211px;" /></a><br />
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"After passing through Devil's Gate, the Martin company was forced to cross the Sweetwater River where four young men who were members of the rescue party carried people across the ice cold river."<br />
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In order to help us gain a better appreciation for this heroic event, the leader of our group decided to try to get the men of the group to carry the women across.... after several near droppings of the womenfolk in the river, most of us decided we could appreciate it more than enough on our own two legs.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0sNAXwpDI/AAAAAAAAANM/mgFvoY2uIfs/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+083.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362991333217707058" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0sNAXwpDI/AAAAAAAAANM/mgFvoY2uIfs/s320/Wyoming+trip+083.jpg" style="height: 225px; width: 302px;" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0syPvNNbI/AAAAAAAAANU/RAWgAKuFCjE/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+081.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362991972997739954" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0syPvNNbI/AAAAAAAAANU/RAWgAKuFCjE/s320/Wyoming+trip+081.jpg" style="height: 225px; width: 306px;" /></a><br />
(I bet the pioneer women WISHED they could have had my cool Wal-mart umbrella... ah, the wonderful conveniences of modern life)<br />
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This trip really helped me appreciate my pioneer heritage more as I had the opportunity to experience some of the inconveniences of pioneer life...<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0t6dr8d7I/AAAAAAAAANc/pX2DdT8cakI/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+067.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362993213692737458" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm0t6dr8d7I/AAAAAAAAANc/pX2DdT8cakI/s320/Wyoming+trip+067.jpg" style="height: 168px; width: 248px;" /></a></div>
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Getting sunburnt EVERYWHERE ( it doesn't help that I'm practica<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm02Hj7CswI/AAAAAAAAAN0/1ydtV0KABRY/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+058.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363002234797994754" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm02Hj7CswI/AAAAAAAAAN0/1ydtV0KABRY/s320/Wyoming+trip+058.jpg" style="float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a>lly an albino)<br />
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DESPERATELY missing running water...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rg6aAxHFs-Y/Sm02Hj7CswI/AAAAAAAAAN0/1ydtV0KABRY/s1600-h/Wyoming+trip+058.jpg"></a> <br />
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The difficulty of pushing a handcart...<br />
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Our little adventure helped me feel what it was like to be a pioneer, even if it was only for a brief day. I feel an increased gratitute for the pioneers and the lessons and legacy they left behind.</div>
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</div>Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7092877743533582460.post-21410220987072114642009-01-14T11:09:00.001-07:002009-01-14T11:42:52.895-07:00Can't escape the blogosphere!!!!!!!!!It is following me.... the BLOG! If you were to tie that word to similar sounding ones out there, you get the feeling that you are slogging through the bog on a hog- no particularly pleasant associations going on there. But try as I may, I cannot escape this new technology. Even if my life offers no tantalizing details to bring in readership... today I woke up, brushed my teeth, went to school, went to work, brushed my teeth again and AMEN, the day's adventures are done... I know, tempt me tempt me, right? But I must learn and learn I shall! Tune in soon for some more nonsensical nonsense.<br />For some fun eating in Provo, check out my <a href="http://newnewsnet.byu.edu/story.cfm/70429">Daily Universe</a> review of Pantrucas Chilean restaurant.Chelsea Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00899695279824725831noreply@blogger.com1