<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223</id><updated>2011-08-30T09:57:04.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days in Words</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-4097212309312822544</id><published>2011-03-26T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T18:15:33.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>81/2x11 Motivation</title><content type='html'>I miss college.  You are probably thinking, "How can she miss it if she just finished a few months ago?"  Yeah, I know.  It's true.  Here are three reasons in descending order... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reason #3 of why I miss college:  I definitely didn't appreciate having so many friends in my same stage of life right in one community.  I didn't realize how fast it would all end.  It has been so much harder this semester to be proactive about keeping friends.  When I say it, it sounds crazy.  I thrive off of relationships with people.  With countless hours at jobs where I work with hardly anyone my age, it is difficult to keep those relationships afloat.  So, I have piggybacked off of Eric's friends.  I have made so many incredible friends through Eric at MCC.  I am so thankful that I have such a social husband to keep me social when I don't feel like it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reason #2 is because I also miss learning.  It is so much harder to be a learner when someone is not making you do it!  Don't get me wrong, I am learning a whole lot this semester about various things, but I miss learning about literature and writing.  Through my job in Wamego, I have found a new passion for ESL strategies in teaching.  I am craving to know more about different curriculum that will help my students excel at the fastest rate possible.  It is amazing to me how fast a language can be developed when a student is eager to learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reason #1 that I miss college (well today at least) is the gratifying feeling of hearing the printer release the ink on the fresh crisp paper that will bring all of your thoughts and hours of work together in one place.  That's right, I miss writing papers.  It makes you feel like you have a piece of originality in a place of conformity and apathy.  Don't mistake me, Majority of my papers were usually the latter, but every once in a while, I would find incredible pride in what I had written over a simple piece of literature or criticism.  I miss finding pride in my work.  Hopefully the day I have my own classroom, I will find that same feeling of pride in reading my students' papers.  Or maybe I'll find pride in creating their assignments.  Whatever and whenever it is, I hope it comes soon.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the mean time, I find my pride in making myself read or write.  I am a really bad self motivator, especially when it comes to reading.  I work so much, that all I want to do when I get home is watch Netflix shows with Eric or bake cookies.  So, I am making my own goal this week to not only be in the Bible reading, but also to make time to read and write in general.  And maybe I'll even write a paper afterwards... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HAHA  yeah right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-4097212309312822544?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4097212309312822544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/812x11-motivation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/4097212309312822544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/4097212309312822544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/812x11-motivation.html' title='81/2x11 Motivation'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-101361232817338798</id><published>2011-02-02T12:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T13:44:44.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The P31 Calling</title><content type='html'>So the other night I was desperately scraping cheese off of a pizza bagel pan when it hit me-- &lt;div&gt;I &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; to be the Proverbs 31 woman.... sometimes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(If you have never read Proverbs 31 out of the Bible, I recommend putting that on your to-do list.)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Proverbs Chapter 31 has been quite the staple in my life.  There are many defining moments that I remember being challenged by this chapter.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was a young pre-teen girl, just trying to be normal and cool all at the same time, I used this as my compass for who I was to become: "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised" (vs 30).  As long as I focus on just Jesus, all the weird and awkward feelings were supposed to go away.  I didn't need boys, skinny legs, or manipulation to get what was best for me.  I knew that.  I soaked and stayed in that verse.  But probably didn't buy into it for myself.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In high school, I began to date more seriously.  (well, if you call middle school love "dating")  I realized that in order to keep my image, I had to appear to be a certain person.  I had real friendships and relationships, but I don't think I was vulnerable to who the woman was inside of me.  I worked mainly on the outer.  "Strength and dignity are her clothing and she laughs at the time to come" (vs 25).   I dreamt about my future, and even prayed for my future.  I had a relationship with the Lord.  But if you would have taken away my friendships and relationships, you would barely see Jesus.  My spiritual identity was wrapped up in what I did and who I was with.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;College.  OH COLLEGE.  I went through several growing stages now that I can look back and see the progression.  I thought I was in the big time moving into Kenny Ford Hall.  I quickly realized that my "Christian" friends could never have prepared me for what I got in college.  I didn't understand why everyone wanted to drink, sleep with boys, and drink some more.  I put myself on a platform of superiority.  "I can't believe she did that!  I would never even dream about... " The condemnation went on and on.  I was thrown into a world that I had only ever heard about.  I believed this to be true of me... "Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all" (vs 29).  I was conceited and stuck up.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friendship humbled me.  I met some incredible women in college; many of whom were in my sorority.  A lot of these women had not grown up in the same places as me.  It broadened my perspective of the world.  For the first time in my life, I saw how some of the sin I thought was despicable, was acceptable.  I had to continue to be re-centered like clay on a potter's wheel.  I found friends that shared the same direction in their hearts as me, but some I loved more because they didn't.  For the first time in my life, I questioned.  And it was good.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ironically enough, I ended up liking going to bars.  I enjoyed the beverages, friends, and conversations.  I still have a strong opinion about legalism in the Christian church based off of many conversations held in small corners of Aggieville.  I fought with God on why some things that were never designed to be wrong, became wrong.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While contemplating alcohol, a friend from Camp War Eagle and I sat at an Arkansas coffee shop.  And wouldn't you know, Proverbs 31 came up.  I had never closely read the first 10 verses.  But she showed me something that I would never forget.  "Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, and wine to those in bitter distress; let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more" (vs 6-7).  While I spent a few years of my college career frustrated over this topic, the answer was right in front of me.  There are other passages in scripture that reference the sin of being drunk.  But this, I had never encountered.  I realized that God is not a God of detailed rules.  He simply created us for worship.  If I can have a beer in a bar with a friend, and the conversation brings him worship, GET IT DONE! And praise Jesus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; Proverbs 31 struck again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"An excellent wife who can find?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is far more precious than jewels.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The heart of her husband trusts in her, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and he will have no lack of gain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She does him good, and not harm, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all the days of her life" (vs 10-12).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the part of my life that I always read and dreamed about.  But as I was scraping that crusty cheese pan the other night, I realized that I am NOT the Proverbs 31 woman.  I will never fully BE the Proverbs 31 woman.  I am Candice.  I became frustrated with the concept of a wife that has to "rise while it is still night and provide food for her household" (vs 15).  I didn't want to do that, and I don't know if I would ask God to make me want to want that.  But here is what I do know.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my frustration, I sat down to read through the well known passage once again, asking God to renew my view of this life calling of being a wife.  I read through the chapter, and then flipped through the footnotes.  This is one of those defining P31 moments, so I'll write the footnote:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[122] 31:10  Verses 10-31 are an acrostic poem, each verse beginning with the successive letters of the Hebrew alphabet.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WOW.  God knows me and loves me so much that he designed one of the most difficult callings in my life to be a poem, so I would like it more!  He is an artistic, loving, creative Father that just knows exactly what is best for my life.  He knows me so intimately that he designed that moment that I would read that footnote to show me how much he loves me.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that my commitment to be a wife won't be the easiest calling, but this is another example of how God has drawn me to himself to let me know that it is HIM that accomplishes the impossible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And when I look at all that God has done, it makes it so much easier to scrape that crusty cheese off.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-101361232817338798?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/101361232817338798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/p31-calling.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/101361232817338798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/101361232817338798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/p31-calling.html' title='The P31 Calling'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-3003434278929935178</id><published>2011-01-17T19:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T19:37:21.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Newly Wed</title><content type='html'>It's official!  I'm now &lt;b&gt;Mrs. Eric Schneider&lt;/b&gt;.  The December to Remember was unbelievably perfect.  I finished the daunting task of my student teaching portfolio, said farewell to those wonderful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MHS&lt;/span&gt; seniors, graduated from Kansas State University, and became a licensed teacher.  (a license that will hopefully serve me well this fall)&lt;div&gt;I then watched my brother marry such a wonderful woman, now Mrs. Katie Lewis!  My new sister-in-law is talented, kind, and fits in to our family perfectly.  My brother is pretty lucky!  Their wedding on the plaza was a fantasy!  My favorite memory was waiting on the trolley with Katie and the other bridesmaids to walk down the aisle.  She was so ready to go, and the time seemed to stretch on forever.  We all stared at her, as she stared at the church doors and the clock.  After the wedding, as the we got on the trolley to go take bridal party pictures, a light snow began to fall.  It was a beautiful evening.  It made me anticipate our night that would be in two weeks.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The two weeks in between then and New Year's Eve are a blur to me now.  But the night Eric and I had been anticipating for so long came even faster than you all warned me.  Everything just went perfect that day.  So many people travelled from so many different places to celebrate with us.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Best moment, you ask?  Definitely has to be the one we all dream about.  I took my Dad's arm as we waited outside the sanctuary doors.  My fingers were ice, my palms sweaty, my teeth dry from my permanent smile as we approached the double doors inside.  I heard the drums build as the wedding planner asked me, "Are you ready?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I looked at my dad.  He was shaky with tears in his eyes.  I nodded my head as she fixed my train.  The ushers opened the double doors.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There he was.  Standing at the foot of the alter that I had seen so many times.  This time it looked like all my Sunday morning day dreams... ONLY IT WAS REAL!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We began to walk slowly down the aisle.  I really don't think anything was going through my head.  I just had this blurred tunnel vision.  I only saw Eric.  And as we got closer I saw the tears rolling down his cheeks.  My groom, now husband, has the biggest heart a man could have.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I committed my life to him.  I do!  and I will.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are writing the rest of the story together now.  Being married has been very surreal for us.  As comfortable and normal as it feels, I have those random moments where I still think it's all a dream.  But then I wake up to the sound of his razor, and remember that it is REAL!  It is a fun, unpredictable, but the best adventure I've had yet.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The honeymoon in Negril, Jamaica was a bit of a roller coaster.  Eric got the nasty flu that had been going around.  Basically, our second night of marriage was spent with Eric over the toilet all night.  The next morning I held an IV above him as the doctor tried to figure out what other drugs he could take.  Once we recovered from practicing "in sickness and in health", the trip was actually pretty spectacular.  The beach was warm, the water beautifully blue, and the people mainly Canadian;)  We made some great memories our first week of marriage!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have really just been enjoying life this last week in Manhattan.  I started my new job as an ESL para, which will be challenging and rewarding.  I will hopefully be getting another part time job to get the bills paid too.  I love all this new free time I have too!  I love reading my wonderful Kindle, spending more time with the Lord, decorating our little home, and watching movies with my husband.  I'm working on my love of being domestic :)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This semester is like a new blanket of snow... I want to build a giant snowman and a fort to store snowballs in.  But I can't do that without getting some tracks on the ground.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here goes putting some steps in the freshly fallen snow!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-3003434278929935178?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3003434278929935178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/newly-wed.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/3003434278929935178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/3003434278929935178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/newly-wed.html' title='Newly Wed'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-2821232322509278520</id><published>2010-12-02T07:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T07:09:01.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Poems from My Favorite Poet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Robert Frost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Into My Own"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my wishes is that those dark trees,&lt;br /&gt;So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,&lt;br /&gt;Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,&lt;br /&gt;But stretched away unto the edge of doom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should not be withheld but that some day&lt;br /&gt;into their vastness I should steal away,&lt;br /&gt;Fearless of ever finding open land,&lt;br /&gt;or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not see why I should e'er turn back,&lt;br /&gt;Or those should not set forth upon my track&lt;br /&gt;To overtake me, who should miss me here&lt;br /&gt;And long to know if still I held them dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They would not find me changed from him the knew--&lt;br /&gt;Only more sure of all I though was true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Road Not Taken"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,&lt;br /&gt;And sorry I could not travel both&lt;br /&gt;And be one traveler, long I stood&lt;br /&gt;And looked down one as far as I could&lt;br /&gt;To where it bent in the undergrowth;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then took the other, as just as fair,&lt;br /&gt;And having perhaps the better claim,&lt;br /&gt;Because it was grassy and wanted wear;&lt;br /&gt;Though as for that the passing there&lt;br /&gt;Had worn them really about the same,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And both that morning equally lay&lt;br /&gt;In leaves no step had trodden black.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I kept the first for another day!&lt;br /&gt;Yet knowing how way leads on to way,&lt;br /&gt;I doubted if I should ever come back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be telling this with a sigh&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere ages and ages hence:&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--&lt;br /&gt;I took the one less traveled by,&lt;br /&gt;And that has made all the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-2821232322509278520?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/2821232322509278520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/12/2-poems-from-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/2821232322509278520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/2821232322509278520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/12/2-poems-from-my.html' title='2 Poems from My Favorite Poet'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-6298004478774649396</id><published>2010-09-30T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T06:41:06.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake Up Call</title><content type='html'>I'm tossing and turning in bed.  It is still dark out.  Why am I awake if my alarm hasn't gone off yet?  Did I go to bed too early?  Do I need to take an allergy pill?  Pee?  &lt;div&gt;I get up to check the time.  Why is my body awake at... HEY!  Why is my phone not on?! It is plugged in!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frantically, I take my phone and charger to the kitchen outlet and turn it on.  yikes!  6:40 am...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My alarm usually goes off around 6am.  I am late for school.  It feels like high school all over again.  Except, when you are the teacher, you have more people counting on you being there.  Well, I ended up getting there with plenty of time.  I'm just lucky that my natural time clock woke me up.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the drive to school, I thought about some other wake up calls in my life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up Call number 1.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Getting Married.  I am getting married.  YES!  But there are so many things that come along with that.  Wake up, and grow up--really fast.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up Call number 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;December 11th= KSU graduation=the beginning and hopefully the end of my unemployment.  But Graduation also marks the end of something that I love probably way too much--school.  I am pondering the costs and possibilities of Grad school.  Wake up!  Student loans suck.  Real life lesson: nothing comes free.  I believe in education, but do I believe in debt?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up Call number 3.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;LGN: non-existent.  I can't push the snooze on this one.  The gym misses me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up Call number 4. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Life is not invincible.  With death and injuries abounding at an all time high around me, I find myself thanking God for my every breath.  Every moment is precious.  Every moment needs to be lived.  Be thankful for every moment you have with your loved ones.  You never know when someone might be living their last week, or losing part of who they are.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up Call number 5.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Not everything is a walk in the park, but walking in the park might help.  Sometimes I forget to go outside, besides the walk to and from the car.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up Call number 6. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The pinnacle moment of my education quickly approaches.  I will teach &lt;i&gt;Frankenstein&lt;/i&gt; to over 80 Seniors at MHS in two weeks!  Can't hit the snooze on the couch after school now... It's time to get some concrete plans made.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, it is now hour 2 at High School.  My arabic student came in rapping in his mother tongue.  I guess that is a wake up call to be more engaged in my students' lives rather than my blog.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HEY!  Why didn't you bring your nice student teacher Starbucks?  I take vanilla lattes if you are interested.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up.  Life calls.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-6298004478774649396?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6298004478774649396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/09/wake-up-call.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/6298004478774649396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/6298004478774649396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/09/wake-up-call.html' title='Wake Up Call'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-1113911159323334319</id><published>2010-09-23T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T19:30:36.618-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is my prayer in the desert</title><content type='html'>This week has been quite the ride.  Sometimes God's timeline and plans just don't make a whole lot of sense.  I know that is the point, but it really is difficult.  &lt;div&gt;My Grandma Lewis had a stroke in California on vacation on Monday.  She has been in the ICU for this week.  They discovered that a clot had been forming that was inhibiting blood from getting into the left side of her brain.  The doctors said that she may not be able to recover fully if at all.  We are still waiting to hear more, but it doesn't seem to be very hopeful at the moment.  She is not doing well physically.  Please pray for her recovery and for my family if you think of it. There are many things to be thankful for in this situation.  She had been on the trip of a lifetime with her sister when this happened.  She was enjoying life and taking chances-something she doesn't do very often.  She is still here.  And even though she isn't completely here, she is here.  I am so thankful that my Great Aunt was with her when this happened.  I am so thankful that my dad is home safe from Africa and can go see her tomorrow.  I am thankful that my family knows the Lord, and that my Grandma knows the Lord.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Living in this world that isn't my home can get exhausting... and that is an understatement.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I persevere, knowing that my purpose is greater than my own.  His will is greater than my own. There are things left to hope for, and I am still waiting for my savior to come.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-1113911159323334319?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1113911159323334319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/09/this-is-my-prayer-in-desert.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/1113911159323334319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/1113911159323334319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/09/this-is-my-prayer-in-desert.html' title='This is my prayer in the desert'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-6567510978947042132</id><published>2010-09-09T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T09:23:19.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wandering thoughts of a student teacher</title><content type='html'>In these early stages of exploration in teaching, I am becoming more and more aware of the diversity of educators.  Its like eating a corn dog for the first time in your life after only ever eating rice or fish.  Both are accomplishing the same task, being fed.  However, the differences can be astounding.  &lt;div&gt;Is one better than the other?  maybe.  They are mostly just different.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am discovering the differences.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-6567510978947042132?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6567510978947042132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/09/wandering-thoughts-of-student-teacher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/6567510978947042132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/6567510978947042132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/09/wandering-thoughts-of-student-teacher.html' title='wandering thoughts of a student teacher'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-9028900911495091219</id><published>2010-05-11T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T21:20:29.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>vent (to the tune of my favorite things)</title><content type='html'>shushing and sleeping and bright tired faces.&lt;br /&gt;crazies and lazies in all sorts of places.&lt;br /&gt;why is there no place to study tonight?&lt;br /&gt;could it be that finals week is nigh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;munching and crunching and echos of Bieber&lt;br /&gt;why is it college girls now have the fever?&lt;br /&gt;I get so angry when Pandora says baby,&lt;br /&gt;someone come help me before I go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the sun shines,&lt;br /&gt;When I'm writing,&lt;br /&gt;It makes me feel so sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply remember its finals week curse&lt;br /&gt;and that makes me feel, so much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;black gowns and cheering throughout all the campus&lt;br /&gt;graduating in December, I simply can't stand this.&lt;br /&gt;Just give me some coffee and turn on itunes&lt;br /&gt;At least I'm not unemployed, like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbyes and transitions, my days are numbered&lt;br /&gt;but with parties and weddings my bank account went under&lt;br /&gt;I simply can't see past this negative fog.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's why I chose to write on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm grumpy&lt;br /&gt;And there's finals&lt;br /&gt;I can write mean poems&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I remember that summer is coming&lt;br /&gt;and that makes me want, to go home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-9028900911495091219?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/9028900911495091219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/05/vent-to-tune-of-my-favorite-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/9028900911495091219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/9028900911495091219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/05/vent-to-tune-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='vent (to the tune of my favorite things)'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-8235792945090740516</id><published>2010-05-07T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T13:52:28.909-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Has Other Plans</title><content type='html'>Tragically true, the end is coming.  In some ways it already has.  I went to my last undergrad college class yesterday.  I have my future planned as far as the rest of 2010 goes.  And I am emotionally and mentally coming to terms with my alumni status of Kappa Kappa Gamma.  While the future daunts and taunts me, I just want to sit in a hammock and rewind the last 4 years of my life please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College has been an experience that has shaped me in so many different ways.  I look back and think about the naive young person I was when I came, and I am grateful.  Innocence can often times translate as ignorance.  My post-high school grad self had no clue in the world.  And while I do not consider myself to have grasped knowledge in its entirety, I know I am wiser due to my experiences away from everything that used to be familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship found me so fast here.  I am having to say goodbye to so many incredible people, which just plain sucks.  Thankfully, some people are not leaving.  And for the rest, well, I am thankful for technology.  I have some talented friends.  I can't wait to see where life takes them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am getting married in 238 days.  As far off as it seems, I know it will come fast.  Watching my friends step into this journey before me is such a blessing.  I cannot wait to see Hannah become Mrs. Brown, Alli become Mrs. Wilde, Rachel become Mrs. Neihart, Becca become Mrs. Strom, and Rochelle become Mrs. Veitenheimer (and so many more).  It is truly a blessing to have so many friends to turn to for advice and support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric, what a man!  I am just blown away every day by the man God has given me to spend the rest of my life with.  He compliments me in so many perfect ways, and knows me so well.  We get anxious a lot for the future, but this part in our story has been so beautifully crafted.  I have grown to love him even more since our engagement.  Preparing for marriage is sometimes stressful, but always exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in a small way, I am ready for the future.  But in many ways, I just want to stay right here, in this moment, the friday afternoon of the last week of college classes.  Time, however, has a different agenda.  And God, He has better plans.  I am positively sure of that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-8235792945090740516?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8235792945090740516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/05/wrapping-it-up.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/8235792945090740516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/8235792945090740516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/05/wrapping-it-up.html' title='Time Has Other Plans'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-8822957413368751546</id><published>2010-04-22T08:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T08:37:22.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rain on Earth Day</title><content type='html'>There is nothing more inspirational than rain.  I am convinced that magical beads of inspiration fall inside the droplets and every time they hit my head, I get a supposedly brilliant idea.  And since I walked to class in the rain this morning at 7:45 am, I will attempt to capture the brilliance.  No promises. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;College pen chewing.  Equally disturbed apathy&lt;br /&gt;motivation stripped bare barely catching&lt;br /&gt;her breath&lt;br /&gt;coffee, stained teeth, burying ebony childlike innocence.&lt;br /&gt;The irony of a deep criticism in Children's classic novels&lt;br /&gt;as adults, insults&lt;br /&gt;an everlasting never changing or growing Peter, Alice, Lucy, Tom. &lt;br /&gt;a child lives forever. &lt;br /&gt;college: ends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-8822957413368751546?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8822957413368751546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/04/rain-on-earth-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/8822957413368751546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/8822957413368751546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/04/rain-on-earth-day.html' title='rain on Earth Day'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-4684638480633917570</id><published>2010-01-31T17:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T18:00:58.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wealth and Poverty Abound for a Reason</title><content type='html'>It seems to me that I am completely numb to devastation and loss of human life.  The earthquake in Haiti seems so distant.  It is hard to comprehend.  And yet, I don't think that any amount of images can destroy the wall of numbness I have created around myself.  I think I figured out what the root of the numbness is, however.  My selfish pride lurks around every corner seeking to devour any compassion that may have been left in my heart.  I spend my days consumed in vanity, materialism, and utter selfishness.  These things have caused me to set aside eternity and forget about the overall human condition.  How can I sit back and not do something?  I live amongst riches and wealth and I complain about money.  I am rich.  Besides my earthly possessions, I am rich in Christ.  This is the only richness that will never be contained or depleted.  The richness of Christ is abundant.  Step outside my bank account.  I am willing to give, Lord, because of your great mercy and love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-4684638480633917570?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4684638480633917570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/01/wealth-and-poverty-abound-for-reason.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/4684638480633917570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/4684638480633917570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2010/01/wealth-and-poverty-abound-for-reason.html' title='Wealth and Poverty Abound for a Reason'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-365012795141424642</id><published>2009-11-02T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T17:09:48.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>soggy leaves compose this typical college monday</title><content type='html'>Here in the silence of noise my thoughts unravel from today.&lt;br /&gt;Do I appear to be something I am not in order to fill my proper image in others' minds? &lt;br /&gt;Am I simply emulating what I see in those I strive to mirror?&lt;br /&gt;Do my intentions become interrupted by my interior?&lt;br /&gt;Then do my actions show my true self?&lt;br /&gt;Do my desires boil over to action, or do I sit aimlessly without drive? &lt;br /&gt;When does it end?  When will I realize time scatters like thoughts as I walk home?  These thoughts never encounter reality, but rather exist in a fleeting moment--gone with the leaves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-365012795141424642?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/365012795141424642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2009/11/soggy-leaves-compose-this-typical.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/365012795141424642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/365012795141424642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2009/11/soggy-leaves-compose-this-typical.html' title='soggy leaves compose this typical college monday'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8112104470035426223.post-2979703765892410471</id><published>2009-10-25T14:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T14:02:30.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Post</title><content type='html'>So here it is!  I have been wanting to have a blog for a while, and I just got around to it.  I am not feeling like a real post, so I will just post this.  Its not an inspiring moment, but rather a technologically advanced one.  I hope to bring more words to the blog soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8112104470035426223-2979703765892410471?l=candicelewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/feeds/2979703765892410471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-first-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/2979703765892410471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8112104470035426223/posts/default/2979703765892410471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://candicelewis.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-first-post.html' title='My First Post'/><author><name>Candice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02540767118236484982</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_F1kkVGaZlb8/S-r23udUuXI/AAAAAAAAABY/NNA1N552gCU/S220/DSC_0259.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
