<?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-6076981893589319329</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:08:57.422-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mind's Empiricism</title><subtitle type='html'>Letting my thoughts escape my brain</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-5752120405201237809</id><published>2007-12-02T10:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T11:31:57.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A LOT on my mind</title><content type='html'>This past week and weekend have been packed full of things to do and not enough time to do them. After a full day of planning for our documentary, I decided to get into bed and read (Wicked). After I struggled to find a stopping point I realized that this time of night was the only time I actually had to do what I want. I get tricked into thinking I have a busy week, but it dawned on me that every week is a busy week. I never have time to go see a movie anymore. It takes me 2 months to read a book. I was due for an oil change 1,000 miles ago. I miss doctors’ appointments. I wash my clothes but forget to put them in the dryer. I can’t find my company ID. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is quite personal and deals with my personal beliefs so if this makes you uncomfortable I suggest you skip to the next paragraph. I usually have to work on Sundays, which keeps me from going to church. Now that the racing season is over my Sundays are free, but I find all I want to do is sit alone for a minute and just do absolutely nothing. On the other hand I know that I am slowing becoming more selfish and passive because I haven't been able to go to church in so long. The problem is finding a church in this city that isn't a singles club or a daycare. I've become passive about finding a home church and quite frankly stopped trying. That alone is enough to terrify me. I know how much peace, joy and mental grounding I have when I stay in the Word and go to church. I also realize that if I would get over myself and just find a church then I will start making friends here. I know all this, yet I have nothing in me to drive me to go. It's such a bizarre feeling. I need to refocus my top priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, it’s a word I’m so sick of hearing about. It seems as though moving to Charlotte has sparked some strange urge in everyone I know to fix my singleness. The problem is everyone's inconsistency. One day people (mostly my closest friends and my family) will tell me I'm much too young right now, focus on my career, have fun, travel. A few days later I will be asked by the same people if I'm interested in anyone right now and/or have they told me about their friend (fill in a guys name). I'm quite content being single right now and honestly don't know of any guy with the patience to deal with my busy schedule, but I'm not against meeting new people. Here's the problem, before I can even realize what I'm doing I turn down blind dates or group dates. I throw out some lame reason then go home and sit in confusion because I'm just as inconsistent as those who want me to find a significant other, get married, but also stay single and be successful. I am the pretty much the only friend left in my group that is not married or engaged yet or in a serious relationship. I feel as though this might be something that I've caused, I need to figure that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, and I am probably going to get some angry responses because of this, I'm thinking of ending my blog. Now before you start cursing my name, I have good reason (at least I think I do). I've never been a people pleaser, but the moment I moved to Charlotte I find myself trying to keep people happy and content. I don't necessarily want people to be happy with me, just happy in general. I don't know what it is about this place (Charlotte) but it's turning me into someone that I can't quite recognize. Here's how this applies to blogging. I basically started a blog because some people said I should. I'll skip a few days blogging because I become insanely busy, but get grief from fellow bloggers for not blogging. I'll feel bad and write up some lame post. No one will read it because I don’t' have time to comment on 20 blogs. Then, I'll feel bad for not commenting on other's blogs, because lets be honest, if someone doesn’t comment on your blog then you won't come and read theirs. The blog world is give and take; you got to earn your regular readers. This alone is just too much. I don’t' have the time to contribute to blogging and commenting and I don't have much to say, ever. Right now blogging is just another thing on my To Do list, and to be honest, there are much more things in my life that need my full attention right now (my best friend with a 2 year old, a job promotion, producing and directing a documentary in New York City, finding a church and getting my spiritual life back in order, getting back in shape, etc) I don't think I'm going to delete my blog, but I know that I will be taking a very, very long break from it. I'll still check in when I can. This is important, for those of you I've met here, I still hope that we can keep in touch through e-mail and phone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-5752120405201237809?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/5752120405201237809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=5752120405201237809' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5752120405201237809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5752120405201237809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#5752120405201237809' title='A LOT on my mind'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3961875098146683690</id><published>2007-11-20T19:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T19:33:47.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jailhouse Rock</title><content type='html'>1,500 plus CPDRC inmates of the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center, Cebu, Philippines at practice! This is not the final routine, and definitely not a punishment! As I continued to look at more videos, this is something that this prison has been doing for a while. It is AMAZING!&lt;br /&gt;Thriller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hMnk7lh9M3o&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hMnk7lh9M3o&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hustle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u-FhczpCZ84&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u-FhczpCZ84&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walk it Out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HCUbUOZbs6g&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HCUbUOZbs6g&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like to see the final routine for Thriller, just go to YouTube and type "At the Cebu Capitol" in the search bar. It should be the first video. Enjoy! I know I did!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3961875098146683690?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3961875098146683690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3961875098146683690' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3961875098146683690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3961875098146683690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#3961875098146683690' title='Jailhouse Rock'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-1096942248016093369</id><published>2007-11-18T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T10:09:53.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Martian Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/R0BVn-KdYYI/AAAAAAAAAMM/Jg7G-Yu-5d0/s1600-h/3120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/R0BVn-KdYYI/AAAAAAAAAMM/Jg7G-Yu-5d0/s320/3120.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134197720392491394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A sci-fi author (John Cusack) who is still mourning the death of his wife tries to get his mind off of his grief by adopting a young boy (Bobby Coleman). But the kid's own emotional problems are compounded by the fact that he seems to be utterly convinced that he's from the planet Mars. David’s sister, Liz (Joan Cusack), his boss, the adoption agency and his agent (Oliver Platt) all try to talk David out of adopting a child because he’s lonely. As parenting takes over his life, his writing career comes to a slow stop and the lines between fantasy and reality become slightly blurred. &lt;br /&gt;Martian Child is a deeply sincere and moving film. Coleman proved himself as more than a child actor. His performance was flawless leaving you questioning if he really was a martian child or just a child attempting to heal from a painful past. John Cusack also gave a great performance. (Much better than 1408.) Oliver Platt annoyed me some, but he always does. &lt;br /&gt;This film was different from any film I’ve seen in awhile, which was greatly refreshing and probably one of the reasons I loved it so much. The idea, two different people learning to love each other and defeating the odds, is familiar. The delivery of the story and the characters is what makes the film seem not so familiar. &lt;br /&gt;The film also has an underlying theme of the power of the imagination. Cusack’s character struggles with his imagination being conformed to what the mass wants and feel comfortable with after years of writing. When he meets Dennis, and his exocentric and relentless imagination, he learns that he’s diluted his imagination to please those who are threatened by it. In the end the two, David and Dennis, begin to balance their imaginations by still challenging normal thinking, but without being too out of this world in the extent of the imagination.&lt;br /&gt;I’m a little late in writing this review, but for those of you who still haven’t seen it, if you are looking to see a heart warming and feel good movie, I strongly suggest Martian Child. It will leave you with a smile on your face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-1096942248016093369?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/1096942248016093369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=1096942248016093369' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1096942248016093369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1096942248016093369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#1096942248016093369' title='Martian Child'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/R0BVn-KdYYI/AAAAAAAAAMM/Jg7G-Yu-5d0/s72-c/3120.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6700126141806198228</id><published>2007-11-15T21:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T22:03:28.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awkward Turtle</title><content type='html'>I house sitted this week for a family in Charlotte. I was in charge of not only the house but of two kids, 12 and 15, and two cats. The younger, Page, was very sweet and the older,Parker, was the happiest and most talkative emo kid I've ever met. But, the whole week was awkward. The guest room was super creepy (furnished with miniture victorian furniture and pictures and dolls). I was scared I would see things so I slept on the couch in the game room with the two cats. I usually hate cats, but one was like a dog, it just laid by the door and slept. The other one was a typical cat. It stalked you and pounced and hissed and meowed, etc. To do something different I decided to take the kids out for dinner. Wednesday night we went and ate fajitas. But, when our sizzling meal came out we had no tortillas. The three of us just sat there staring at eachother. The following conversation happened:&lt;br /&gt;Page: No tortillas&lt;br /&gt;Me: nope. Maybe they went to get them.&lt;br /&gt;Parker: Soooo you like the salsa?&lt;br /&gt;Me: yeah, it's good&lt;br /&gt;A very long silence followed then I see Parker slowly lift his hands and peer at me through his jet black hair. All the sudden I see something very familiar. Some that Shea is known to do in awkward moments...That's right, Parker busted out the awkward turtle. The turtle worked his magic and I busted out laughing. The rest of the meal went by smoothly and silence free. Thank you awkward turtle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9SULsR9-lbw&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9SULsR9-lbw&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6700126141806198228?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6700126141806198228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6700126141806198228' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6700126141806198228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6700126141806198228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#6700126141806198228' title='Awkward Turtle'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-992191148580518074</id><published>2007-11-11T15:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T16:16:04.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Packing up and removing in?</title><content type='html'>This weekend I opted out of hiking due to lack of company and began to pack up my belongings for another move. I would like to say that I'm moving into a quaint home in Charlotte with oak tree lined streets where I can finally be close enough to visit with my friends. Unfortunately I'm moving about 30 feet away from my current living situation. Because I've decided not to rent, save up, and use my savings to purchase a home, I'm stuck living with my parents for the next year and maybe a little more. My parents picked up on my anxiousness to get out on my own again and decided to grant me the "ownership" of the bottom half of their house. So this weekend I cleaned and packed and picked out paint. I'll have my own enterance, living room and patio. I'll just have to share the kitchen if I want to cook anything. I feel this is a good deal for what I can get. Moving back in with my parents was tougher than I thought, but hopefully this "move" will make the next year go by much quicker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RzdwCdipeTI/AAAAAAAAAL0/0UA5V8aMYa8/s1600-h/BKRKNOVLUCPFISN.20071110224639.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RzdwCdipeTI/AAAAAAAAAL0/0UA5V8aMYa8/s320/BKRKNOVLUCPFISN.20071110224639.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131693488003971378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other exciting updates:&lt;br /&gt;NCSU Wolfpack beat the UNC Tarheels - greatest game of my life, besides last season basketball when we beat the Tarholes and we rushed the court. I LOVE my Wolfpack and this game gets me excited for basketball season and March madness.&lt;br /&gt;Corrine and Bradd are having a girl!&lt;br /&gt;My old roommate and I are trying hook up two of our friends-helpful suggestions welcome&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-992191148580518074?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/992191148580518074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=992191148580518074' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/992191148580518074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/992191148580518074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#992191148580518074' title='Packing up and removing in?'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RzdwCdipeTI/AAAAAAAAAL0/0UA5V8aMYa8/s72-c/BKRKNOVLUCPFISN.20071110224639.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-1862487879756756183</id><published>2007-11-06T20:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T20:29:29.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quite Uninteresting</title><content type='html'>I have absolutely nothing to blog about. There is no new news, no exciting events to anticipate, no exciting boy gossip, no freakish or funny accidents, no drama, no nothing. The magic of a new place has worn off and life has left everyone I know too busy for quality random fun.&lt;br /&gt;I guess the most interesting thing going on right now is that I'm in therapy for my neck injury from my car accident last week (thrilling isn't it?). I am a huge fan of the Samsung Juke phone commercial. Oh and I got a hang nail yesterday and my work computer crashed on me again today, and my company's Christmas party invites came out today. &lt;br /&gt;Before I throw too much of a pity party, I have to admit that one interesting thing is going on. Tomorrow night my sister-in-law through marriage (my sister-in-law's brother's wife...got that?) is having a sex party. Now before your perverted minds start working. Corinne and Bradd are pregnant (funny how the guy is "pregnant" too..) They find out the sex of their baby on Thursday. So Wednesday we are having a sex party to celebrate the mystery news. &lt;br /&gt;I need something exciting to happen, something to do with someone. I want to go to the mountains Saturday to hike, but I don't have anyone who will go with me. I'm beginning to bore myself with myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RzEUJNnfmfI/AAAAAAAAALs/cMsf_J51SiI/s1600-h/mundane-sports.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RzEUJNnfmfI/AAAAAAAAALs/cMsf_J51SiI/s320/mundane-sports.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129903599058393586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me on the left...This is my life's response on the right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-1862487879756756183?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/1862487879756756183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=1862487879756756183' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1862487879756756183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1862487879756756183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#1862487879756756183' title='Quite Uninteresting'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RzEUJNnfmfI/AAAAAAAAALs/cMsf_J51SiI/s72-c/mundane-sports.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8179786350416134344</id><published>2007-10-30T10:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T12:07:30.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Luck's Joined the Dark Side</title><content type='html'>Since I've moved to Charlotte, Good Luck and I have been pretty good friends. Until last Tuesday at 4:06pm when Luck decided to join the dark side and start making my life hell. For the past two weeks I've been in a brawl with luck, who now goes by bad luck, and I'm getting my butt kicked. &lt;br /&gt;Last Tuesday on my way home from work I was driving behind a plumbing truck when out of the blue a joint pipe about 18 inches long and 4 inches wide flies out of the truck and bee lines it for my front fender. Because traffic was so heavy, trying to avoid the possessed pipe would only cause a bigger accident. So I clenched my steering wheel and took the beating. After looking in my rear view mirror and seeing that the pipe was bouncing through the traffic behind me I picked up the pen in my cup holder, picked up my speed and began writing down the information on the truck. I picked up my phone and dialed out the numbers scribbled on my hand. The woman on the other line said she would call me back in an hour when the supervisor got into the office. I waited 2 hours, called them back and was told to wait 45 more minutes. I waited an hour then called back...no answer. I was not going to get screwed over. The next morning I left a message for them to call me by 10am or I was going to file the accident at the police department. To make a long story short I got the issue settled and they are going to pay for the damages (although surprisingly small, just a deep scratch in the shape of a perfect circle).&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydQfNnfmcI/AAAAAAAAALU/f8Ir934o1J8/s1600-h/CIMG0241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydQfNnfmcI/AAAAAAAAALU/f8Ir934o1J8/s320/CIMG0241.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127155197946075586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on the list, the blow below the belt at my dog Sadie. Thursday I let Chloie and Sadie out to play. About an hour later I open the door to let them back in. Sadie limps through the door (which is normal b/c she has arthritis), behind her is a very bloody trail. I freak out and run over to start checking paws. A small pool of blood was starting to form under Sadie's left front paw. I lift it up and a one inch gash had left her pad split almost in two. I call my mom and together we begin to doctor her up. She's getting better now but is sad that her play time has been limited.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydSENnfmdI/AAAAAAAAALc/vFaUu8V7irE/s1600-h/CIMG0256.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydSENnfmdI/AAAAAAAAALc/vFaUu8V7irE/s200/CIMG0256.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127156933112863186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to Friday night, a good friend and I are on our way home from a local band's concert. Again, a stupid truck was driving in front of me and stuff starts flying out. Luckily no one else was on the road so I could dodge most of the debris, except for the white paint. I get home and check out the damage. White speckles of paint covered my hood and windshield (did I mention I have a black car?). Anyway, with some elbow grease I was able to take off most of it, but the rest is going to have to be taken care of by professionals.&lt;br /&gt;Monday is the day that bad luck drew blood. On my morning commute to work, sitting in stopped traffic, a Honda driven by a woman on a cell phone and a hyper dog in the back seat plows into my car at 45 miles an hour. In disbelief I pull over to the safety lane and dial 911. Numbed from previous beatings by bad luck I was almost unmoved when the officer asked me if I was okay. I step out of the car and take a look at my broken bumper, then glance over at the woman’s front fender that was completely destroyed and thought, wow I guess that was a harder hit than I thought, then got back in my car and cranked up the radio and waited. After the officer handed me my Accident Report I headed off to work. I sat down at my desk where the adrenaline quickly wore off and the pain hit. Yep, whip lash. My neck and shoulder throbbed in stabbing pain and moving my head to look right was almost impossible.I decided to leave work an hour early to doctor myself up, a very very bad idea.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydWddnfmeI/AAAAAAAAALk/JlVZMHUj6Uw/s1600-h/CIMG0248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydWddnfmeI/AAAAAAAAALk/JlVZMHUj6Uw/s200/CIMG0248.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127161764951071202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently bad luck was on overtime because he was waiting for me in the parking lot. I start to leave my parking space, backing out slowly b/c I couldn't move my neck and then I heard the all to familiar noise. Another employee was in a hurry to get out of the parking lot so he picked up his speed to get by me. Apparently it wasn't fast enough b/c I backed right into him. Now furious, not at him but the whole day, I pound my fist on my gearshift (which really hurt) then get out of the car. I start to mumble choice words. The guy gets mad b/c he thinks they are directed at him. I quickly step back into reality and explain the past few days to him. The story ironically put him in a good mood and he said he would be okay handling the situation without the police or insurance company. Happy with that I profusely apologized, got in my car and let the floodgates open. Bad luck had won. This day had sucked and the following day I was going to avoid driving. So, I called my boss and told him that I was not coming into work b/c I was boycotting driving for a day. He laughed and granted me permission to sulk.&lt;br /&gt;So here I am at home working, sulking, and avoiding my car at all costs. The good news is that my neck movement is slowly coming back, my car is getting fixed, Sadie's foot is healing up and my day off has given me time to finally blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8179786350416134344?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8179786350416134344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8179786350416134344' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8179786350416134344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8179786350416134344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#8179786350416134344' title='Luck&apos;s Joined the Dark Side'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RydQfNnfmcI/AAAAAAAAALU/f8Ir934o1J8/s72-c/CIMG0241.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-4159346403097031527</id><published>2007-10-24T22:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T22:46:34.809-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn Winds</title><content type='html'>The Rain finally made his way to NC, gently gracing us with cool drops of water over our thirsty flowers and withering grass. When the street lamps came on he began to shimmer then ask me to dance. With a smile I slipped off my shoes and played a while. As if his presence wasn't enough, he also brought with him Crisp Fresh Air and her sister Cool Gentle Breeze. Together they blew away the dust and heat so that I could see and feel the beauty of Fall. The three promised to stay through the night to and coax me to sleep if I, in return, left my windows open for them to play in my drapes. I know their visit won't be long, but they've promised to stay one more day. I pray that it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RyACwNnfmbI/AAAAAAAAALM/Ho4HPpGEobY/s1600-h/3782165-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RyACwNnfmbI/AAAAAAAAALM/Ho4HPpGEobY/s400/3782165-md.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125099403259910578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall Dance&lt;br /&gt;by: Edward Nudelman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another fall day that seems to balance&lt;br /&gt;On its own precarious step&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Not understanding whether it is to be swung&lt;br /&gt;Into winter’s arms in a dosie-doe&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Or rudely shoved like the last passenger&lt;br /&gt;On the five o’clock commuter to Trenton&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I’ve got to say by the looks of things&lt;br /&gt;She’s got her own two-step today&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sitting around twiddling her gorgeous thumbs&lt;br /&gt;Through the red-tipped maples&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;While her toes tap on the cool green grass&lt;br /&gt;And her breath leaves a mark on my window.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-4159346403097031527?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/4159346403097031527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=4159346403097031527' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4159346403097031527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4159346403097031527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#4159346403097031527' title='Autumn Winds'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RyACwNnfmbI/AAAAAAAAALM/Ho4HPpGEobY/s72-c/3782165-md.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8621116796408215967</id><published>2007-10-20T10:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T10:28:04.554-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking up</title><content type='html'>I am not a morning person, yet my middle name is Dawn (my mothers favorite time of day). I'm not a morning person, yet I wake up hours before the sun rises. Sleeping in doesn't happen often, but when it does I'm surprisingly just as unaware of the things around me as I am when I'm forced out by my alarm. &lt;br /&gt;It takes me about 5 minutes to lose my blurred vision, 15 minutes to put together proper words and sentences, and 30 minutes to gain my equilibrium. This morning, after I was able to function properly, I had to laugh at myself. Why? The process of me waking up is very similar to that of someone who has had one too many margaritas. &lt;br /&gt;I'll use this week's morning routines as examples. The very first thing I do in the morning is jump in the shower to boost the waking up process. Due to blurred vision I washed my hair first with conditioner then with shampoo, the rest of the day my hair looked as if I stuck my finger in light socket. Thursday morning, after my shower, I apparently had a conversation with my mom about the Occupato premier the previous night. I was getting so frustrated b/c she kept asking how it was and then assumed the premier went poorly, all due to my slurred speech, incomplete sentences and talking in grunts. This morning I got up and put on some sweat pants. Standing on one foot is way too difficult. I fall over into the sink and knock over lotions and bottles. I stumbled into the kitchen and walk into the corner of the wall, followed by spilled yogurt and granola. Luckily, those who know me well enough know to give me 30 minutes to myself in the morning to "sober-up." Roommates and family have told me before that I'm funny in the morning. This morning I somehow became aware of the humor in my waking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dashhouse.com/charlene/waking%20up.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dashhouse.com/charlene/waking%20up.bmp" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8621116796408215967?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8621116796408215967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8621116796408215967' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8621116796408215967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8621116796408215967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#8621116796408215967' title='Waking up'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8495721254587190100</id><published>2007-10-16T21:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T22:25:41.239-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, that was a name drop</title><content type='html'>I had the privilege to work another race this weekend here in my hometown of Charlotte, NC, the Bank of America 500. My day started at the track at 7:30 am and ended the next day at 2:30 am. Despite the insanity of my work hours, I still managed to have a blast, as always. &lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning I helped with the filming of a commercial for the NASCAR Foundation Track Walk. After gathering fans participating in the walk to pose as if they were really excited, I started to gather the celebrities there for quick interviews. I turn around to see a Busch Series driver, Scott Wimmer, not so exciting. Then I look over and see two large men talking. Once my brain woke up I realized it was former NFL players Rod Smith (Carolina Panthers) and George Martin (NY Giants). Being a big football fan I was happy to have the duty to shake their hand and prep them for their interviews. &lt;br /&gt;Next on the list, Brian Vickers. Brian is a NEXTEL Cup Series driver for Red Bull. It's an on going joke in my family and at work that I need to go out with Brian solely for the reason that we both love kayaking and rock climbing...oh and did I mention he's quite cute, which I've made known to those who work with me. Anyway, as if in slow motion, Brian pulls up in his Red Bull golf cart looking fine as ever and walks up to meet his PR. The senior producer gives a frantic point in his direction as to say "Get him for an interview NOW!" I take a few deep breaths to prepare myself for my first words with Brian, which were "Hi, can I have you"...yep those were my words, nothing else. A very awkward what felt like a 10 minute, but was probably 2 seconds, pause lingered between us then I blurted out, "...for an interview of course, sorry, I mean, do you have a minute?" Luckily he laughs and says "yeah, definitely." I hold down the throw up and slight embarrassment and walk him over to my camera guy. After the interview I was hoping to find something to make me busy, or appear busy, to somehow relinquish my cool points. Then, it happens. I see someone who would make my week.&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, I laid my eyes on a man with one arm and an air of rock and roll to him. In my moment of recovery from the past interview I wasn't thinking clearly. I began to strike up conversation with this man who told me all about his charity Raven Drum Foundation. We joked around and I even grabbed his good arm to support me as I laughed at a joke. Then it dawned on me...holy sweet mother, I'm talking to the legendary Rick Allen from Def Leppard!!! I was so excited. So as he talked with Brian and George I clicked this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RxVsGN-7auI/AAAAAAAAALE/oGeEvPuKn74/s1600-h/CIMG0220.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RxVsGN-7auI/AAAAAAAAALE/oGeEvPuKn74/s320/CIMG0220.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122119005292423906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The track walk went well and I shared a few stares with Brian and another handshake and conversation with my man Rick, who I later saw in the pits where he winked at me...oh Rick. Anyhoo, it was a great weekend and I love meeting cool people, cool famous legendary one armed drummer people. Here is a Def Leppard music video. You can catch a few glimpses of Rick playing drums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7p0z1y5mg_E"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7p0z1y5mg_E" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8495721254587190100?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8495721254587190100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8495721254587190100' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8495721254587190100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8495721254587190100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#8495721254587190100' title='Yeah, that was a name drop'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RxVsGN-7auI/AAAAAAAAALE/oGeEvPuKn74/s72-c/CIMG0220.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-7154151958774543445</id><published>2007-10-12T22:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T23:07:15.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Love Song For No One</title><content type='html'>I heard this song today and it made me smile. How true is it that we have all writen a love song for no one? Maybe not literally pen and paper, but we've all had those moments when we daydream about who it is we are meant to be with. As a girl, I know this to be true. Through out my life I've writen several letters to a man I don't know...or do I? Most my life I've been content with being single, but I must confess I have my moments (usually when I'm at home alone on a weekend) when I just say "Okay, I'm done with this whole single thing. Lets just fast forward and figure out this mystery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RxA2BN-7asI/AAAAAAAAAK4/cTRsJ3x906s/s1600-h/220279254_17c20cbec5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RxA2BN-7asI/AAAAAAAAAK4/cTRsJ3x906s/s200/220279254_17c20cbec5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120652170881624770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staying home alone on a Friday&lt;br /&gt;Flat on the floor looking back&lt;br /&gt;On old love&lt;br /&gt;Or lack thereof&lt;br /&gt;After all the crushes are faded&lt;br /&gt;And all my wishful thinking was wrong&lt;br /&gt;I'm jaded&lt;br /&gt;I hate it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being alone&lt;br /&gt;So hurry up and get here&lt;br /&gt;So tired of being alone&lt;br /&gt;So hurry up and get here&lt;br /&gt;Get here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Searching all my days just to find you&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure who I'm looking for&lt;br /&gt;I'll know it&lt;br /&gt;When I see you&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I'll hide in my bedroom&lt;br /&gt;Staying up all night just to write&lt;br /&gt;A love song for no one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being alone&lt;br /&gt;So hurry up and get here&lt;br /&gt;So tired of being alone&lt;br /&gt;So hurry up and get here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have met you in a sandbox&lt;br /&gt;I could have passed you on the sidewalk&lt;br /&gt;Could I have missed my chance&lt;br /&gt;And watched you walk away?&lt;br /&gt;Oh no way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being alone&lt;br /&gt;So hurry up and get here&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired of being alone&lt;br /&gt;So hurry up and get here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll be so good&lt;br /&gt;You'll be so good for me&lt;br /&gt;Oh You'll be so good&lt;br /&gt;-John Mayer : A Love Song For No One&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-7154151958774543445?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/7154151958774543445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=7154151958774543445' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/7154151958774543445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/7154151958774543445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#7154151958774543445' title='A Love Song For No One'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RxA2BN-7asI/AAAAAAAAAK4/cTRsJ3x906s/s72-c/220279254_17c20cbec5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8796046015946639608</id><published>2007-10-08T17:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T20:33:27.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Claim After the Storm</title><content type='html'>It seems the last 4 weeks of my life have been saturated in all thing TV and movie production. I've been sleeping, eating, talking, reading, writing, and sneezing production. Traveling on the road with NASCAR has been a blast. The people are amazing and come from all walks of life. They spend 36 weeks out of the year together, which has resulted in a nomadic-like family. I was immediately accepted and treated as if I had been with them all season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwqzGt-7aiI/AAAAAAAAAJo/mYNx8Atp2t4/s1600-h/CIMG0188.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwqzGt-7aiI/AAAAAAAAAJo/mYNx8Atp2t4/s320/CIMG0188.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100854464113186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sunday I loaded up my things and headed out to the race track for a 6am crew call. I stopped by the TV compound to grab some fruit, load my backpack with enough snacks to last me till 9pm, and claim my beautiful gas powered golf cart. Most of the morning was spent putting the cameras together and prelabeling all the tapes. The camera that I was assigned to was worth $90,000, which made me thankful that I only had to clean the lens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rwqz3d-7ajI/AAAAAAAAAJw/WLTjsdAItRU/s1600-h/CIMG0194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rwqz3d-7ajI/AAAAAAAAAJw/WLTjsdAItRU/s320/CIMG0194.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119101691982735922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The festivities didn't start till 11am. I load my backpack with two 8 lb batteries and 10 HD digi tapes and truck on over with my camera crew to the drivers meeting. The rest of the day was spent in the pits (not the emotional pits but the actual physical pit stalls at the track). Sporting my all access pass, I hop the pit wall and start rubbing elbows with drivers and crew chiefs. It didn't take the drivers and crew members long to realize I was the newbie on the road. First I received the look-over, then the smile, and then I was picked on. The picking led to good conversation which led to making fun of Jeff Gordon when we caught him digging his fire suit out of his butt. After the National Anthem and other prerace festivities were over I hopped back over the pit wall and took my place in our first pit stall. I was able to capture some pretty cool photos. This is Jimmie Johnson's first pit stop of the race. I was close enough that if I stuck my hand out it would be lopped off by the car leaving the pit stall. I was also able to hear several lug nuts fly past my head as they flew out from under the tires. It was scary yet thrilling.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rwq0Ut-7akI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/kipdeNgZLr8/s1600-h/CIMG0200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rwq0Ut-7akI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/kipdeNgZLr8/s320/CIMG0200.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119102194493909570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The race went through 2 rain delays, which left me very wet and very cold. We took shelter with some other crew members and drivers in an empty garage where I took the liberty to capture the monsoon. If you click on the picture it will be larger so that you can see it was literally raining sideways.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwrLvt-7apI/AAAAAAAAAKg/h9w62JOPn8U/s1600-h/CIMG0204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwrLvt-7apI/AAAAAAAAAKg/h9w62JOPn8U/s200/CIMG0204.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119127947117816466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The race finally ended. Greg Biffle took the win under caution (my man Clint Bowyer came in a close 2nd). I snapped a quick picture of the chaos when he won. I surprised I wasn't killed or trampled. But I survived thanks to my 90 lb backpack. I'm sure it served as some sort of protection against the mob of media.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwrK09-7aoI/AAAAAAAAAKY/n_t-qF1gcSg/s1600-h/CIMG0210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwrK09-7aoI/AAAAAAAAAKY/n_t-qF1gcSg/s320/CIMG0210.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119126937800501890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After capturing the burnout we ran to Victory Lane where I was doused in Gatorade and confetti. The night was finally over at 10pm. I loaded the golf cart with 4 cameras, 3 tripods and 2 booms and made my way to the car. &lt;br /&gt;The next morning I slept the whole plane ride. It was a fun weekend and I look forward to the chaos again this weekend. Luckily the race is here in Charlotte so I can sleep in my own bed.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rwq2Ot-7anI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/y0x_UybjsC8/s1600-h/CIMG0211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rwq2Ot-7anI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/y0x_UybjsC8/s320/CIMG0211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119104290437950066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8796046015946639608?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8796046015946639608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8796046015946639608' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8796046015946639608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8796046015946639608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#8796046015946639608' title='The Claim After the Storm'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RwqzGt-7aiI/AAAAAAAAAJo/mYNx8Atp2t4/s72-c/CIMG0188.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-4678508396276082179</id><published>2007-09-28T09:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T10:03:28.234-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Confound to the TV Compound</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rv0Hn9-7agI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8-HICSJTZts/s1600-h/Kansas-Speedway-Protection-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rv0Hn9-7agI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8-HICSJTZts/s400/Kansas-Speedway-Protection-.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115253134997547522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few of you have asked me why I haven't posted anything in a while. There is a very good reason and I plan to explain the details as briefly as possible. The past two weeks have been spent with 6-7 day work weeks with each day that last between 12-15 hours. I've been working on footage that is shown at the annual NASCAR Banquet every year in NYC. The deadlines are tight and my eye lids droopy. So for two weeks I've averaged 4 hours of sleep a night. I pulled my first all nighter at work, something to be proud of. Its sort of a coming of age for the TV industry, except that it consist of frozen pizza at 3am with your fellow sleep deprived producers and editors. Tuesday I was told that I would be flying out to Kansas for 6 days to work  as a font cordinator (typing up the graphics for the show and placing them in during the live feed) for the Speed broadcast. Sunday I will be a runner for the Nextel Cup race, which means I drive around the pits, garage and other places of the infield providing the camera men with fresh batteries and tapes. So I've been here since Wednesday and I'm not leaving till Monday and still working those 13 hour days. It's fun. The TV  Compound is insane, but they serve amazing food and provide you with every variety of drink, candy and protein/granola bar on the market. I'm put up in an amazing hotel, living off the company credit card and driving a brand new car for the week...can't complain. The cool thing is I will be able to watch my first live race from the most exciting place at the track...the pits. 20 feet away from pit stops with flying lug nuts is a thrill, plus I get a golf cart! When I return home from Kansas I'll give everyone a more sufficient post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-4678508396276082179?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/4678508396276082179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=4678508396276082179' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4678508396276082179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4678508396276082179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#4678508396276082179' title='Confound to the TV Compound'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rv0Hn9-7agI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8-HICSJTZts/s72-c/Kansas-Speedway-Protection-.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-5791118902592294789</id><published>2007-09-18T22:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T22:25:36.698-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sea Kayaking</title><content type='html'>This is a little late, but I'm lazy and kept forgetting to put my pictures on my computer. Around the end of July my mom asked me if I would be up for a family vacation over Labor Day. Being that I'm poor and this would be an all exclusive trip on my parents I agreed that it would be a good idea. Little did I expect for her to tell me to plan it...anything I wanted! Well, what I wanted to was to go sea kayaking. I went for 9 days in March to the Florida Keys and slept in the National Parks and Forest, it was amazing. So after digging up those memories I decided that our family trip should be a sea kayaking adventure. Being that my sister-in-law hates bugs and my mom gets hot flashes, I decided that a condo would be the best place for sleeping. I managed to forget that my dad was still recovering from two broken arms. &lt;br /&gt;Friday we all get off work early and drive down to the North Carolina Outer Banks (they are beautiful if you've never been). Our first full day I wake everyone up early and bring them to the Barrier Island Kayaking launch site. Some local kayakers give my family a crash course on paddling and water safty while I play with the shop puppy, Bella, and prep my boat for launching. Needless to say my family couldn't keep up and ending up backing out early. I stayed out with my mom who paddled another 2 miles without complaining. The rest of the trip we played on the beach, made sand castles and listened to my dad talk about how much he wanted Dairy Queen. Here are some pictures of my lovely family and our adventure. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHVz8GY4aI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2e1cfj2JZTQ/s1600-h/CIMG0110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHVz8GY4aI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2e1cfj2JZTQ/s200/CIMG0110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112102140325192098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHWVMGY4bI/AAAAAAAAAIo/yakZShdbToI/s1600-h/CIMG0112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHWVMGY4bI/AAAAAAAAAIo/yakZShdbToI/s200/CIMG0112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112102711555842482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Bella checking out my ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHW48GY4cI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gQ9RvS1DSwg/s1600-h/CIMG0134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHW48GY4cI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gQ9RvS1DSwg/s200/CIMG0134.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112103325736165826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My brother was trying to race me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHYBsGY4dI/AAAAAAAAAI4/1_5_dQMlYAk/s1600-h/CIMG0142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHYBsGY4dI/AAAAAAAAAI4/1_5_dQMlYAk/s200/CIMG0142.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112104575571648978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHY0MGY4eI/AAAAAAAAAJA/iENYYcrg5Q0/s1600-h/CIMG0169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHY0MGY4eI/AAAAAAAAAJA/iENYYcrg5Q0/s200/CIMG0169.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112105443155042786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHZWcGY4fI/AAAAAAAAAJI/zepoQlxQZmw/s1600-h/CIMG0157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHZWcGY4fI/AAAAAAAAAJI/zepoQlxQZmw/s200/CIMG0157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112106031565562354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My dad, sister-in-law, brother and me (mom took the pic)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHZ9MGY4gI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hMebCBuBXPw/s1600-h/CIMG0168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHZ9MGY4gI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hMebCBuBXPw/s200/CIMG0168.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112106697285493250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Nothing like a quiet beach, a good tan and a good read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-5791118902592294789?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/5791118902592294789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=5791118902592294789' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5791118902592294789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5791118902592294789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#5791118902592294789' title='Sea Kayaking'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RvHVz8GY4aI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2e1cfj2JZTQ/s72-c/CIMG0110.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-2966480305905761938</id><published>2007-09-16T12:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T12:32:47.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PCs are for Fart-Hoffers</title><content type='html'>I ran across this online. Being apart of the Mac Cult, I found this pretty entertaining. It gets lame every now and then, but it's funny for the most part. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_mJ5kwVqkqg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_mJ5kwVqkqg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-2966480305905761938?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/2966480305905761938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=2966480305905761938' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2966480305905761938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2966480305905761938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#2966480305905761938' title='PCs are for Fart-Hoffers'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-507255455200695406</id><published>2007-09-14T17:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T18:24:33.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drought relief</title><content type='html'>The past few days I have been insanely busy. I’ve been house sitting, dog sitting, working on extra projects at work with tight deadlines, trying to help out friends in need, helping organize events for a church’s anniversary, etc, etc. A few blogs ago I vented my frustrations with old roommates and my dad. The good news is that I got everything settled, got my deposit back and got an apology from my dad. Things are still a little weird between us but I can tell he’s making an effort to get to know me better. But although I’ve been busy I’ve been very happy and content. Today it rained for the first time in 6 weeks. I find the blessed rain a small step to the relief to our drought and a parallel to the things going on in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I’m trying to save up money to buy a small home here in Charlotte, which forces me to live between my parents’ house and my brother’s house for the next year. This is kind of stressful but fun. I enjoy not really having to keep up my own place for once and not have to pay rent. It also gives me a chance to hang out with my brother some more. Not having a place to permanently live has given me the chance to house sit some of the nicest houses in Charlotte and make some extra cash.&lt;br /&gt;Work is insane! I’ve been putting in over 50 hours a week, which leaves me very tired. I can’t complain though. Executive producers are starting to request my work more and more. I’m being placed on shorter projects as a producer instead of a production assistant. I love it. I finally feel like I’m applying myself at work. The 10-12 hour days are killing me but I couldn’t ask for a better job. To add to the chaos that I love so much, a large church as asked me to film the events of their 25th Anniversary (which includes a satellite feed to another building and editing together short videos to show at the events. I’m supposed to give and estimate this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;On the personal side I’ve been dealing with hating it here in Charlotte, yep I said it.  I’ve been having trouble meeting good, quality, sincere friends. Over a month ago a childhood friend of mine was suppose to be moving back to Charlotte. I was SO excited. If I had a sister this girl would be it. She calls me the day before her move and lets me know she’ll call me later that week to get together later that weekend…I never heard from her. A month passed with me calling 2-3 times a week, e-mailing and texting. Still nothing. The day my concern for her turns into slight panic I hear from her (funny how things like that work out). She immediately confesses that she was avoiding me and that she has some news for me. Knowing her personality and inability to stick with a plan I figure she never moved to Charlotte…I was right, but there was a good reason besides lack of commitment…she was pregnant. My heart sank to the floor. I couldn’t get mad or lecture her for being irresponsible. I listened to her tearful confession, gave her some loving words and said a prayer with her then got off the phone. The moment I hung up I began to cry, not only for her, but because I was heart broken. I was so looking forward to having an old best friend around and I wouldn’t have to try so hard to make new ones. Selfishly I was upset that I wasn’t going to get what I wanted. I sucked it up and realized the “me” has been the only thing I’ve really been focusing on. I spent a few hours by the pool to realign my thoughts and focus. Ever since then I’ve found myself very content with my life here in Charlotte. (Random note: the news is on in the background and they are doing a story on the large movement of doggy yoga classes in Charlotte…HOW STUPID IS THAT?!) &lt;br /&gt;To wrap it up, I’m happy with my life here. It’s tough and I’m still adapting but small situations are showing me that I belong here and that great opportunities await me.&lt;br /&gt;*Next to come: Family Sea Kayaking pictures!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-507255455200695406?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/507255455200695406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=507255455200695406' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/507255455200695406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/507255455200695406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#507255455200695406' title='Drought relief'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-259345678180291601</id><published>2007-09-06T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T21:29:22.033-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meme by Martha</title><content type='html'>My favorite Texian, Martha B, tagged me with a questionaire that will provide you with more random information about myself. Here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four First Names of Crushes I've Had:&lt;br /&gt;1. Josh&lt;br /&gt;2. Andrew&lt;br /&gt;3. Peter&lt;br /&gt;4. Justin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Pieces of Clothing I wish I still owned:&lt;br /&gt;1. Blue zip up hoodie from high school. It had my name on the front and Varsity Cheerleader on the back. Most comfortable thing I ever owned.&lt;br /&gt;2. My black Reef flip flops&lt;br /&gt;3. Yellow t-shirt from a smoothie company called Crush that had "got a crush?" on the back&lt;br /&gt;4. A wool sweater from 8th grade that one of my friends shrank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Names I've Been Called at One Time or Another:&lt;br /&gt;1. K Dawg&lt;br /&gt;2. Krystal Meth/ Meth/ Methy&lt;br /&gt;3. K-love&lt;br /&gt;4. KD/ KDL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Professions I Secretly Want to Try:&lt;br /&gt;1. Photographer&lt;br /&gt;2. Story book illustrator&lt;br /&gt;3. Tour guide&lt;br /&gt;4. Food Critic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Musicians I'd Most Want to Go on a Date With:&lt;br /&gt;1. Elton John&lt;br /&gt;2. Steven Tyler&lt;br /&gt;3. Jason Mraz&lt;br /&gt;4. Rob Thomas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Things I'd Rather Throw than Eat:&lt;br /&gt;1. Spaghetti&lt;br /&gt;2. Watermelon&lt;br /&gt;3. Meatloaf &lt;br /&gt;4. Any form of cooked fruit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Things I Like to Sniff:&lt;br /&gt;1. Scotch Tape&lt;br /&gt;2. Clean Clothes&lt;br /&gt;3. Coffee grinds&lt;br /&gt;4. Books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I'd like to tag:&lt;br /&gt;I don't know many, but here are the ones I know. So you are chosen out of default.&lt;br /&gt;1. Red&lt;br /&gt;2. Adam&lt;br /&gt;3. Sizemore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-259345678180291601?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/259345678180291601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=259345678180291601' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/259345678180291601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/259345678180291601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#259345678180291601' title='Meme by Martha'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-4448919967464678670</id><published>2007-09-05T22:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T00:26:44.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Angry Tears</title><content type='html'>I was in the middle of responding to Martha's tag, but was unfortunately interrupted by something that would ruin my night, send me to bed upset and push me to tears and anger (I can count on one hand the amount of times I have actually been angry. To move me to this emotion is something one should never be proud of.) I won't go into to much detail, but to sum it up. My roommates have decided to keep my $358 deposit from our house in Raleigh and give it to my subleaser (who was there for a month and a half) because I didn't come help do the final cleaning before the walk through, my subleaser did. I'm sorry, it does suck that they had to clean out the pantry and refrigerator that was full of food that wasn't mine and dust and throw away an old fake christmas tree (mine) that they told me when I was moving out, they would throw away for me. I'm sorry my subleaser worked so hard and sweat a little to clean, but she didn't have to, she didn't put down a down payment and live there a year. Not only does their greed want to make me break every window in the house, they have seemingly forgotten that I single handedly furnished the living room, dining room, and kitchen, as well as bought the wireless router, TV, DVD player, DVDs, stools, pots and pans, dishes, cups, silverware, microwave and giant oriental rug. Which added up to easily be about $1000 more than my deposit. I also have moved to another city where I started a very busy job and a movie on the weekends, so planning a whole weekend in Raleigh wasn't the easiest thing to do. Four hours of packing up the house that I furnished and turning around to return the U-haul, then making it to a work meeting that evening was the best I could do. Another thing to add to the mix is that my two roommates discussed this whole thing with me not being able to be there (she used air quotes when she said this -we were on iChat) was unfair to them and than I could have easily made arrangements to come down there and clean for a weekend, and also that they unofficially decided that half my deposit should got to my subleaser and the other half be divided between them! Their reason: The deposit is to cover cleaning and damages. There weren't any damages, but we had to clean and if all of us were "too busy" (more air quotes) would we get the deposit back? The answer is no, so we thought since you weren't there to clean, it wasn't fair for you to get that deposit back because you didn't earn it......WHAT!!!?!!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after I finally got of iChat I wiped my angry tears and decided to talk to my parents...here comes the straw that broke the camels back...my dad. Before I even began to explain what happened I told them to please not try to reason out or fix the situation until I'm done venting. My mom knows that when I give a disclaimer that you better follow it or all hell will break loose (she knows this because I am a living clone of her). I begin to talk and my dad begins to butt in. I politely ask him to please let me finish. I'm so angry at the moment that I can't handle to be irritated by interruptions and I don't want to snap at him. I continue. He starts to butt in again (when my dad butts in about something like this he naturally yells, which makes me mad b/c I feel like he's attacking me). I stop and a little more deliberately ask him to let me finish. He snaps back and says "Fine! Hurry up then and Finish!" I feel the blood rush to my face and that vein in my neck pop out. I stand up and say, "I have to leave the room. I was done talking about it." He still continues to yell at me to come back and calls me young lady (which I despise). I lock the door to my room and grab laptop and go sit in my closet. He bangs on the door and I ignore him because I'm trying to keep myself from punching a hole in the wall. A few minutes later, I've begun to slightly calm myself down, he bangs again. I wipe my last tear and go to the door. He starts to yell at me that if they won't give my deposit back then I need to start charging them $30 a month for the used of my furniture. He continues on but I picked a spot in the near by corner to concentrate on and tuned him out. I start to make myself cry some more when I realized that my dad and I would never be able to have any type of relationship deeper than parent/child. My older brother is the favorite in his eyes. He followed in his dad's footsteps and my dad can sit there and talk to him for hours. I'm the free spirited child who forgives too easily and dreams too big. He doesn't understand my quirks and isn't willing to take the time to really ask me about the things I love. As these thoughts flooded into my head I still couldn't deny that he's been a wonderful father to me. I took a deep breath, looked him straight in the eye and interrupted him to tell him that he is repeating everything that I would have told him if he would have let me finish, or finish ANY story at that. I asked him to please leave me be.  My mom shot him a stare and he walked away. I relocked my door and went back to my closet where I now sit typing this blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still so angry that the tears won't stop rolling down my cheek and my hands won't stop shaking. There's just nothing worse than the feeling and the reality of know you have absolutely nothing in common with you father and that an actual conversation between the two of you is something that, if it happened, no longer exist in your memory. Fortunately I do forgive easily and I won't let myself go to bed angry (it's one of the worst things you could ever do to yourself)....After sitting in the middle of the driveway with my mom pouring out every thought that came to my mind, I finally calmed down. So now I'll sit in my closet a little longer in silence and lay still till my eyes begin to drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Martha, tomorrow I will respond to your tag*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-4448919967464678670?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/4448919967464678670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=4448919967464678670' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4448919967464678670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4448919967464678670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#4448919967464678670' title='Angry Tears'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6633751698847813832</id><published>2007-08-27T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T21:52:57.831-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pet Peeves</title><content type='html'>We all have those little things that drive us crazy, some like to call them pet peeves, some say pep peeves; I guess it's where you come from. Pet or pep, either way, today was a day packed full of some of my favorite pep peeves that drive me crazy. Here is a list of almost all my pet peeves. I realize this makes me sound crazy, but if you took the time to write down all those things that drive you crazy, you would have a long list too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Talking / making noise during a movie - THIS DRIVES ME MAD! There is one person in my life that is terrible at this. I want to scream when he's in the room and I what to avoid watching movies with him at all costs...my dear dad. He just talks to the dog, eats things in loud wrappers, turns the other TV on so loud Canada can hear it, decides to nail something, etc. We all know these people. If you're one of them, please never watch a movie with me. It will ruin my opinion of you. &lt;br /&gt;1B. Dilly Dallying around (yes that's what I said) and coming into a movie 30 minutes late then asking the whole time who's that? What's going on? .... Basically either sit in silence with me and enjoy the show or let me watch it alone. I know that sounds harsh but I love my movie time.&lt;br /&gt;2. People who don't turn on red - If there isn't a sign then turn. I can understand if traffic is heavy, we do need to be cautious. But if there isn't anyone on road then why don't you turn?&lt;br /&gt;      2B. Right turn signals on traffic lights - You have a right turn signal with no "No turn on Red" sign and no left turn signal...WHAT? That makes no sense at all. Why have the Turn on Red law then?&lt;br /&gt;3. Ketchup on steak - That is a good way to ruin a perfectly good steak. No excuse.&lt;br /&gt;4. Squeezing the toothpaste from the top or center.&lt;br /&gt;5. People who check their text / respond to a text while in the middle of a conversation - They just hold up their finger as to say "hold on one minute while I check this text that is way more important than what you're saying"&lt;br /&gt;       5B. Bluetooth&lt;br /&gt;6. Putting toilet paper on the holder with the flap hanging behind instead of in front - the picture shows the way that doesn't drive me crazy &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RtN_CB0hTdI/AAAAAAAAAII/uCHR7zIk_m0/s1600-h/acc-toilet-paper-holder.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RtN_CB0hTdI/AAAAAAAAAII/uCHR7zIk_m0/s200/acc-toilet-paper-holder.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103562475566091730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Red pen&lt;br /&gt;8. People who dress their dogs&lt;br /&gt;9. Putting stuffed animals in the back of your car so I have the pleasure of staring at them in traffic.&lt;br /&gt;10. Talking in the morning - I'm not a morning person at all and I love the still quietness that only comes with the morning. Don't try to make small talk with me while I sip my coffee and watch the sun rise. &lt;br /&gt;11. TVs in the bedroom&lt;br /&gt;12. People who air box after making a joke. My boss does this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6633751698847813832?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6633751698847813832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6633751698847813832' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6633751698847813832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6633751698847813832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#6633751698847813832' title='Pet Peeves'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RtN_CB0hTdI/AAAAAAAAAII/uCHR7zIk_m0/s72-c/acc-toilet-paper-holder.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-5299020466751314252</id><published>2007-08-25T00:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T00:49:29.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Becoming Jane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rs-zSx0hTbI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HlzzTRHo4Ro/s1600-h/becoming-jane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rs-zSx0hTbI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HlzzTRHo4Ro/s400/becoming-jane.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102494038026702258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A biographical portrait of a pre-fame Jane Austen and her romance with a young Irishman.&lt;br /&gt;The year is 1795 and young Jane Austen is a feisty 20-year-old and emerging writer who already sees a world beyond class and commerce, beyond pride and prejudice, and dreams of doing what was then nearly unthinkable - marrying for love. Naturally, her parents are searching for a wealthy, well-appointed husband to assure their daughter's future social standing. They are eyeing Mr. Wisley, nephew to the very formidable, not to mention very rich, local aristocrat Lady Gresham, as a prospective match. But when Jane meets the roguish and decidedly non-aristocratic Tom Lefroy, sparks soon fly along with the sharp repartee. His intellect and arrogance raise her ire - then knock her head over heels. Now, the couple, whose flirtation flies in the face of the sense and sensibility of the age, is faced with a terrible dilemma. If they attempt to marry, they will risk everything that matters - family, friends and fortune. (Yahoo Movies)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is truly a beautiful story of love vs. society, irony, and perseverance. Jane Austin has always been a favorite of mine. The first time I read Pride and Prejudice was in the 8th grade and it was the first book I actually read all the way through. Ironically I do not own any copies of her work, which is a shame. Her stories are so well written that I always wondered where her inspiration came from. This film captures her growth from scattered thoughts strewn out on a piece of paper to an unexpected and life/career changing inspiration that sparked the famous work, Pride and Prejudice. Anne Hathaway portrayed a stubborn, young and wide eyed romantic Jane Austen in a way that deserves an Oscar nomination. Maggie Smith played her typical role as the hardhearted old woman, but did an amazing job at it none the less. I wanted to punch James McAvoy (Chronicles of Narnia) the first quarter of the film, then kiss him the last half. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rs-zdx0hTcI/AAAAAAAAAIA/u_hSjxseF-Q/s1600-h/becoming_jane01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rs-zdx0hTcI/AAAAAAAAAIA/u_hSjxseF-Q/s320/becoming_jane01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102494227005263298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't begin to go into the beauty of this film. It is so simplistic. The costumes weren't trying to make some huge symbolic statement, nor distracted your eye away from the story. Lush greens and muted pastels flush the screen and calm the eye. That's what I'll leave it at for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked out of this movie with tears in my eyes. A movie rarely makes me cry, when it does I know that it's something worth considering adding to my library. I couldn't help but find myself relating to the young Jane Austen. I saw characteristics and passions in her that I shared. Part of the time, I felt like I was watching my life on screen, excluding the pressure to marry into money. What can I say, I am a hopeless romantic that was saddened to see Jane live a life without the man that inspired one of her greatest works. No one writes love better than Jane and this movie will show you why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a wonderful, moving film and I recommend it to anyone who enjoys reading the works of Ms. Austen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-5299020466751314252?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/5299020466751314252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=5299020466751314252' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5299020466751314252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5299020466751314252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#5299020466751314252' title='Becoming Jane'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rs-zSx0hTbI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HlzzTRHo4Ro/s72-c/becoming-jane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-4849437817073816403</id><published>2007-08-22T16:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T17:17:28.033-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone in a Crowded City</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rsymwx0hTYI/AAAAAAAAAHg/8qsN9-7iGOg/s1600-h/3670922-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rsymwx0hTYI/AAAAAAAAAHg/8qsN9-7iGOg/s200/3670922-lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101635834841484674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few weeks I've been going through some mental and physical struggles. What seemed to be me quickly adapting and enjoying my new home in Charlotte was short lived. I mistakenly took my immediately busy schedule as a sign that I was going to have plenty of friends and things to do. Now that things have come to almost a complete halt, I'm starting to see otherwise. I've become painfully aware that my best friend just moved literally across the country and my other good friends live 3 hours away. These past few weekends especially have been hard. I come home after work on Friday (or any night) and sit on my couch then eat a quick dinner by myself and forget about turning my phone off silent b/c I've learned that no one will call. Saturday is usually the same. I wake up, do a few errands around the house then I start volunteering to do errands for my parents, then I go to bed about 10pm. Sunday's have been stressful. I get up early and go to a church I don't like only because I'm helping their youth group (which seems to be cool) start up a media department. After church I forget to eat lunch then head to my real work to log live audio for 5 hours from the race. This past Saturday my parents made dinner plans without me and I was offended. They assumed I had plans, but I didn't, I never do. (It's sad when your only weekend plans hinge on if your parents are free.)This sent me into a brief and severe depression that lasted till I feel asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding friends is hard. I love the people I work with, but if you don't want to sit in a smoky bar all night and get trashed then they don't want to hang out. The only other people I know and consider a good friend here is my childhood best friend, Carissa, and Shea. Carissa has a little girl so any plans involving her require planning 2 weeks in advance and then we can only hang out for a couple of hours. I know, surely I know other people. I do know other people, but those other people are married and we all know that married people don't hang out with non-married people. To add to the fun, my parents, brother and sister-in-law have been furiously trying to find someone to set me up with. Apparently there is this guy Dan that went to school with my brother and my mom has already talked to our neighbor (who is a shop coordinator for Evernham Racing) and started making plans for me to meet and have a rock climbing date with the 22 year old NASCAR driver Brian Vickers...geeze. So I have this feeling that there will be awkward and torturous blind dates in my future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To add to my wonderful feelings I've been sick. Not a cold or allergies, but some weird stuff that your body does. For a few days now I've had serious stomach cramping, migraines, blacking out, no appetite, light headed, nauseous and just very very tired all the time. After staying up most the night in serious pain, I managed to go to work. I made it till 12 then I called my doctor and made an appointment. I sat in the doctors office for 2 hours and they gave me pills and shots. I now have to go to the doctor every 3 months to receive a shot that will stop my suffering that is supposedly caused by too much hormones or something. Needless to say I'm feeling sorry for myself and quite sick of my pity party. Sorry for the depressing post but I told you that I would post what's on my mind and this is it. Hopefully my spirits will be lifted soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a happier note, I do visit www.frankcaliendo.com and listen to his ring tones...hilarious. He's a comedian who does impressions. Some are stupid, but some are funny...George Bush, Al Pacino, and Christopher Walken are some good ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-4849437817073816403?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/4849437817073816403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=4849437817073816403' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4849437817073816403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4849437817073816403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#4849437817073816403' title='Alone in a Crowded City'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rsymwx0hTYI/AAAAAAAAAHg/8qsN9-7iGOg/s72-c/3670922-lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-4214329578238909814</id><published>2007-08-17T07:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T08:21:56.084-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How'd I get here doing that?</title><content type='html'>You know when you're driving somewhere and you arrive at your destination then you think "How did I get here?" That happens to me a lot. Either I'm convinced I drove and slept at the same time or I just get sucked into an alternate world where my brain exist and my eyes stay back to make sure I don't plow into anything. Either way I think it's something 99% of drivers experience daily, especially on those Monday and Friday morning commutes. On Monday, when you're driving to work (if you have to sit in traffic like me) try to not zone out of a while and take a look at your fellow road mates...their eyes wide open in a dead stare and their hands feeding coffee to their mouths. We're all a bunch of zombies and it's funny to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a second kind of driver though that takes over usually in the afternoons after work when we are in a rush to get to our next responsibility. I like to call these drivers the Multi-taskers. Yesterday I saw a man with a pair of tweezers pulling out nose hairs (eeeek). Actually, I think there is an Allstate Insurance commercial about it. Anyway, I am the record holder for this type of driver. Eating, putting on make-up and changing shoes is for the amateur. I'm somewhat proud and ashamed to admit that I have (more than once) painted my fingers and toenails, change complete outfits down to the skimmies, read a book on my way to Florida, written homework assignments (high school and college), and curled my hair with a battery powered curling iron then plucked my eye brows. Funny thing is that I usually drive just as well while doing these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm curious to know what ya'll do while driving or what you have seen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-4214329578238909814?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/4214329578238909814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=4214329578238909814' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4214329578238909814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/4214329578238909814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#4214329578238909814' title='How&apos;d I get here doing that?'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8708485325654742368</id><published>2007-08-14T21:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T22:27:48.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drivers, Supermodels, and Jane Austin OH MY!</title><content type='html'>Today has been a very long day, but a very good one as well. I woke up at 5am which is unheard of for me because I am not a morning person (ironically my name is Krystal Dawn resembling my mom's favorite time of day)...anyways...Today I spent 9 hours on my feet at RYR (Robert Yates Racing). My company is deep into production of a movie for CMT about the history of NASCAR. Part of shooting for this film is going to be all the Owners and influential people in the NASCAR industry and doing 4 hour long interviews. I was pretty nervous on this shoot. Not because race shops make me nervous and provide plenty of opportunities for clumsy me to hurt myself or even the the fact that I could be incredibly late for the shoot because I could sleep through an alarm, nope I was nervous because my current boss Jonathan informed me yesterday that I was going to be strongly watched on this shoot. Apparently me and another guy in my department have been placed on a list for future promotion. How soon this promotion will happen, I don't know. But I busted my butt today and not only impressed everyone on set with my incredible dolly pushing skillz and ability to run the show when the Producer was called out for an emergency, but I impressed myself which is hard to do because I am my worst critic. &lt;br /&gt;I get back from the shoot and I was wrangled into my bosses office to which I begin to think that I'm in trouble for something even though I know I did nothing wrong, but that's just how my brain functions. I sit down on the stool in his dark little office with jazz posters all over the walls and he hands me a stack of DVDs. (Blank stare) "Follow me please." My heart dropped to the floor and I tried not to break into a nervous sweat. A fellow co-worker and I are led back to an empty office with one TV. "I have a special assignment for you two. I think it would be a good idea if you could keep this under wraps." My thought: oh my gosh, we're going to have to kill someone! (I watch a lot of gangster mob movies). Luckily I didn't have to cut off my pinky or whack anyone. I am getting generously paid to watch through three 4.5 hour long DVDs of drivers racing and their driver audio, nothing else. I'm listening for curse words and anything discriminatory against NASCAR. &lt;br /&gt;Long story slightly short, I brought the DVDs home and began on my first take home assignment. To pass the time I watched 3 hours of an America's Next Top Model and listened to Drivers audio. It made for a strange evening of entertainment but now quite funny looking back on. My brain felt like mush so I topped the night off with one of my favorite movies Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austin is an amazing author and the new P and P is so beautifully made...it makes my brain feel better and makes me feel less bad for sitting on the couch for 4.5 hours with my laptop on my lap and the TV on and not getting up unless I needed a bathroom break or to grab a Diet Coke from the fridge. &lt;br /&gt;PS- Does the saying "plain Jane" come from Jane Austin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of Danica Patrick. She races in the Indy Car Series and has made a side business out of modeling...I thought it was appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RsJjFFaWkjI/AAAAAAAAAHY/MgL4xDs7RYw/s1600-h/danica45.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RsJjFFaWkjI/AAAAAAAAAHY/MgL4xDs7RYw/s200/danica45.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098746667140026930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8708485325654742368?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8708485325654742368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8708485325654742368' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8708485325654742368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8708485325654742368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#8708485325654742368' title='Drivers, Supermodels, and Jane Austin OH MY!'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RsJjFFaWkjI/AAAAAAAAAHY/MgL4xDs7RYw/s72-c/danica45.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-1887039007085127967</id><published>2007-08-12T22:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T22:55:21.764-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Calorie Conspiracy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_F81aWkiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/MIgM1X2ngm8/s1600-h/Calories.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_F81aWkiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/MIgM1X2ngm8/s320/Calories.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098010952127124002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I've always wondered but never seemed to get a satisfactory answer for is this: how, exactly, does one find out how many calories are in something? Now I know where calories come from (supposedly), but how do you take something like gum and be able to measure that there are 2 calories in one flavorful, minty little strip? Lets take this even farther down the line of ridiculousness and go ahead and mention that some health obsessed genius was able to decipher that a POSTAGE STAMP has 3 calories...WHAT?! How people, how in the world? What is the method? Reveal the formula to me. Do you take an oreo and put it under a supersonic strong microscope that enables you to see these dreadful little things or is it just some guess? Either way, I'm going to eat what I want. The thought just drove me crazy today because women at work always approach me when I eat and tell me how lucky I am not to have to count my calories and to take advantage of it before I start laying on the pounds after my metabolism shuts down on my 35th birthday. My response to them, in my head of course is: how are you even sure calories exist? What if your weight gain is actually caused by the build up of all those processed frozen Lean Cuisine dinners packed full of hydrogenated oils, sodium, and high fructose corn syrups for preservatives you eat? Cause if that is where the weight gain comes from, which calories skeptic me thinks it does, then I'm in good shape (no pun intended) because I avoid foods like that and eat smart...Just a thought to ponder. OH, and another thing...who gets to decide how much a serving is? Why is one scoop of ice cream a serving and how big is a scoop? What if ice cream was my only source of nutrition for the day then how much would a serving be? Tell me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_E11aWkhI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Pw4daxaaD3c/s1600-h/1761525-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_E11aWkhI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Pw4daxaaD3c/s320/1761525-lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098009732356411922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Secondly, I was cruising the web and ran across a photographer that I fell in love with just by looking at the first 3 pictures on his site. His name is Lars Raun (http://photo.net/photos/Lars%20Raun). I don't know what it is about his work, but it's so calming to look at. It's almost like looking at stills from a dream. He does beautiful work and I highly recommend him to any art lovers out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_ErFaWkgI/AAAAAAAAAHA/V8gcesEKNM0/s1600-h/4461164-md.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_ErFaWkgI/AAAAAAAAAHA/V8gcesEKNM0/s320/4461164-md.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098009547672818178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-1887039007085127967?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/1887039007085127967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=1887039007085127967' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1887039007085127967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1887039007085127967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#1887039007085127967' title='Calorie Conspiracy'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rr_F81aWkiI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/MIgM1X2ngm8/s72-c/Calories.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-5709158964626540809</id><published>2007-08-11T11:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T12:12:25.777-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Infected</title><content type='html'>I've been "bitten" by Shea of the Dead causing me to slip into a zombie-like state and provide 10 things about myself. Here we go:&lt;br /&gt;-You BLOG 10 things about you that are seldom known, strange, etc...&lt;br /&gt;-You then note in the blog 10 people that you will "tag" to play the next round.&lt;br /&gt;-DON'T FORGET to go to those 10 folks profiles and let them know they've been tagged!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I HATE the smell of shaving cream. HATE IT! Makes my skin curl. That's why I usually prefer men who don't shave that much. I'd rather cuddle with a teddy bear than a bottle of cold shaving cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm allergic to the strangest things on earth. Some of these include: spinach, band-aid adhesive, and liquid fertilizer. I'm also lactos intolerant, but ice cream is one of my favorite foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I don't tell many people this so consider yourself honored, I was once in the Miss NC pageant...next subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I was born with a deformed vertebra that leaves my immobile for several days if I work out too hard and usually in some sort of pain everyday. My senior year of highschool I went to the spinal doctor 4 days a week for 10 months, it was terrbile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm extremely clumsy. This past Christmas I knocked over 4 displays in Macy's pretty much at one time, I once caught our porch on fire and I've knocked over a tree while mowing the lawn (those are just an examples, there are far more stories)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Two misconceptions people have about me when they meet me are that I'm uber shy or that I'm a snob. Truth, I just don't talk much around people I don’t' know that well until I get a better feel for them. I'm really quite the talker and get along with pretty much everyone. So for future MIRLs...don't judge too quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. The second toe one each of my feet turn out slightly. I used to be embarrassed over it, now I like of like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I check behind my pillows, under my sheets at the foot of the bed, door ways at night, and in my shoes everytime b/c I'm paranoid that there will be killer spiders hidden there. I was ruined after I watched a special on Discovery Channel and then my dad almost lost his leg from a spider bite...I hate the little 8 leg spawns of Satan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I can't sleep unless every door in the room is completely closed and the fan on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Purple is my least favorite color.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-5709158964626540809?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/5709158964626540809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=5709158964626540809' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5709158964626540809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5709158964626540809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#5709158964626540809' title='Infected'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-1965296188053432364</id><published>2007-08-09T21:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T22:21:32.408-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daydreamer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrvLm1aWkeI/AAAAAAAAAGw/niEepAWZjkY/s1600-h/4664545-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrvLm1aWkeI/AAAAAAAAAGw/niEepAWZjkY/s400/4664545-lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096891271332925922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I have no excuse for my lack of posting. I've been throwing out reasons such as I'm so busy and tired, blah blah blah. Truth, I really have nothing to say or write about. Nothing clever or interesting, I don't write about movies unless they blow my mind or all most kill me from boredom (I've seen none lately, except Bourne, but Shea and Avid Andy took care of that review for me), nothing spectacular has occurred, nor have I had any amazing thoughts. I will admit that I think about my blog everyday and feel a rush of guilt for neglecting it and for neglecting to post comments. The result...I have about 2 readers, no comments and I'm quickly losing credibility in the blog world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, as I sit here in my house with broken air conditioning and 105* weather outside and 85* inside and watching The Cider House Rules out of the corner of my eye, I began to think to myself that I'm going to have a purpose for my blog, that's what I've been lacking from the beginning. I think that's what's been lacking; it's why I've slowly faded from the blog world. So I'm sitting here, racking my brain of something to write about, something that will bring a smile to your face or contemplation to your day...and I have nothing. As I began to get slightly depressed over my seemingly loser-like blogging character, I got an idea. I'm going to write about the things that most people don't feel like sharing with the world, and no I'm not talking about sex, I'm talking about those things you day dream about at your desk, sitting in traffic, or lying in bed on those sleepless nights. Yep, I'm going to take notes on my daydreams and spill them out to the world (nervous smile). I realize this will either bomb and leaving me completely embarrassed for the rest of my life, especially around those bloggers I do see like Shea, Avid Andy and Adam...or, this could be very entertaining for you and therapeutic for me. I hope the latter. I also want to write about the things others are going through around me. So if you have something you want me to write about, I'll add some color to it and maybe even elaborate/exaggerate as I feel needed, who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrvJr1aWkdI/AAAAAAAAAGo/R7yFl4Latek/s1600-h/4852875-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrvJr1aWkdI/AAAAAAAAAGo/R7yFl4Latek/s400/4852875-lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096889158209016274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bare with me these next few days as I work out a system. Some days I may just have the lyrics to a song that I woke up with in my head, or some days I'll have a pity party, some I'll hesitantly share personal thoughts and emotions, some days you get a glimpse of my how weird and hilarious it is to be inside my head. Either way, I hope you enjoy. I can't promise I will stick with this new style or method or whatever you want to call it, but I can promise that I will do it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-1965296188053432364?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/1965296188053432364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=1965296188053432364' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1965296188053432364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/1965296188053432364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#1965296188053432364' title='Daydreamer'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrvLm1aWkeI/AAAAAAAAAGw/niEepAWZjkY/s72-c/4664545-lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8243776588960879368</id><published>2007-08-01T21:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T21:54:22.327-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Graffiti Bars</title><content type='html'>So I was cruising the web looking for a cool new background for my computer. I ran across something that caught my eye. It was called Graffiti Bars "Great Chocolate. Pure Street." I immediately stopped what I was doing and clicked the link to the picture I was looking at. I got very excited because this was something I love to eat and something I love to look at...chocolate bars wrapped in the art of local NYC graffiti artists. The company that began this tribute is called The Chocolate Bar in New York City.  They decided that it was time for people to recognize this historic art form and appreciate it so they took 10 local NYC graffiti artists and asked them to create the wrappers for 10 flavors of chocolate bars. Not only is this unexplainably cool, it gets better. A portion of money from these chocolate bars goes to the children's art organization All Stars Project. So, being a huge fan of chocolate (my favorite vegetable), graffiti art, and also having a serious issue with the fact that school systems are eliminating art classes from their curriculum, I am immediately a huge fan of the Graffiti Bar. I'm thinking about buying a few bars just to keep on display and give to friends that share my appreciation for this form of art. I love graffiti and think that this is such a clever way to enjoy this underrated art. Below is a picture of some of these awesome, eatable works of art. By the way, they also have bars wrapped in stencil art and some truffles with designs "painted" onto the tops. It's pretty amazing if you ask me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE4RlaWkYI/AAAAAAAAAGA/f8WI37fkoiw/s1600-h/chocolatebarnewyork_1943_613823.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE4RlaWkYI/AAAAAAAAAGA/f8WI37fkoiw/s400/chocolatebarnewyork_1943_613823.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093914528284316034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out their site at www.chocolatebarnyc.com&lt;br /&gt;Buy some bar, although a little pricey, well worth it I would think. Plus, you will be helping out a good cause!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE5BVaWkZI/AAAAAAAAAGI/LeDE1i6159U/s1600-h/yhst-73294541571616_1956_4802758.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE5BVaWkZI/AAAAAAAAAGI/LeDE1i6159U/s400/yhst-73294541571616_1956_4802758.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093915348623069586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE5BlaWkaI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3JMhKB2jlto/s1600-h/yhst-73294541571616_1956_4821354.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE5BlaWkaI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/3JMhKB2jlto/s400/yhst-73294541571616_1956_4821354.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093915352918036898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE5BlaWkbI/AAAAAAAAAGY/jKfYnduEfl8/s1600-h/yhst-73294541571616_1956_4838139.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE5BlaWkbI/AAAAAAAAAGY/jKfYnduEfl8/s400/yhst-73294541571616_1956_4838139.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093915352918036914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8243776588960879368?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8243776588960879368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8243776588960879368' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8243776588960879368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8243776588960879368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#8243776588960879368' title='Graffiti Bars'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RrE4RlaWkYI/AAAAAAAAAGA/f8WI37fkoiw/s72-c/chocolatebarnewyork_1943_613823.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3504392565392778109</id><published>2007-07-26T20:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T21:26:01.609-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joys of Womanhood</title><content type='html'>This week is one of those weeks where I have been completely controlled by the power of the body. Unexplainable emotions and reactions that only women share or can understand took over my body and turned me into this bumbling, over emotional mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RqlJbVaWkXI/AAAAAAAAAF4/sS2XB8ULH5g/s1600-h/calixtes_woman_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RqlJbVaWkXI/AAAAAAAAAF4/sS2XB8ULH5g/s320/calixtes_woman_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5091681587672027506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To begin, I’m not the girliest of girls. I don’t mind sporting sweat pants and a t-shirt in public, I don’t really like make-up but I wear it to work, I enjoy sports and things that usually leave you covered in mud and sweat, and I’m capable of going to the bathroom by myself. I’m not a tomboy though, I’m somewhere in the middle I guess because I enjoy new, cute clothes and get excited when I find a top that’s 4,578% off. But there are those days where I find myself falling victim to all the things that make us girls who we are. I began the week by obsessing over not having any cute outfits for work (usually I just wear what’s clean or doesn’t have a stain), then I dug up all my old facial scrubs and creams that people gave me as gifts and found myself actually using them, I tried on all my old formal gowns to see if they fit, I brought a brush to work and actually used it during the day, and I cried during not one but two interviews because the stories were so moving, then put together a girls night with my mom and sister-in-law which consisted of cocktails, Hairspray the movie, midnight run for Midol and sugar coated snacks, and gossiping about boys. Heck, to top it off I even gave undergarment and make-up tips to some girls at work. I believe I even became oddly aware of my singleness. Probably because I have two weddings in one day next week, 2 friends getting engaged in one week and receiving the ultimate depressing question “Soooo when do we get to meet the boyfriend?” (People just assume you’re dating someone.) I answer “Oh, no, I’m uh…I don’t have a boyfriend.” Response: “WHAT? WHY?” I think to myself, I don’t know…why not? This usually doesn’t bother me because I know that whole thing will happen when it is suppose to, but this week it sent me into spouts of self-pity. Man, I have been such an emotional mess. Although the over the top girlness has been unusual for me, it’s been entertaining and quite fun/funny to look back on. Maybe this is my brain trying to recuperate from two weekends of working alongside of boys and porta-jons…who knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3504392565392778109?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3504392565392778109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3504392565392778109' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3504392565392778109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3504392565392778109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#3504392565392778109' title='The Joys of Womanhood'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RqlJbVaWkXI/AAAAAAAAAF4/sS2XB8ULH5g/s72-c/calixtes_woman_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-535120679820335360</id><published>2007-07-16T19:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T20:12:48.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OCCUPATO: The "Flounding" Film for Future Works</title><content type='html'>Well, I've been up to my ears in preproduction for the past few months which explains my lack of postage. Every waking hour has been spent getting the smallest details in place for this film. Balancing this and a full time job isn't easy, and my phone bill has gone up significatly, but I can not complain. I live for this stuff. Film is what I love and even if it does drain every ounce of my time and energy, I'm not going to fret because I wouldn't want anything else to leave me in this state. It's satisfying. &lt;br /&gt;As of 8:34pm this past Sunday we wrapped up our first weekend of shooting for Occupato. In two days, which was really just one with a quck nap for Shea and I, we accomplished a monumental amount of filming. Although this film is only going to be about 5-8 minutes long, it is jam packed with some amazing production. Everyone was on their A Game working hard and willing to go to the next level of artistic geniusness. Next step is one more weekend of shooting and then post. &lt;br /&gt;I will do my best to keep everyone up dated. Keep checking the film's blog too. Although it's been a little neglected these past few weeks, we will be posting some pictures of us in action, trailors and maybe even some inside scoop. &lt;br /&gt;So stay patient with me as I regain some energy and time. When I get back it will be daily...PROMISE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-535120679820335360?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/535120679820335360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=535120679820335360' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/535120679820335360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/535120679820335360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#535120679820335360' title='OCCUPATO: The &quot;Flounding&quot; Film for Future Works'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3847015298344006055</id><published>2007-07-06T19:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T19:56:32.167-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cure for your Friday</title><content type='html'>Heard it in the car on my way to work and it's been jamming in my head all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if Monday's blue&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I don't care about you&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday you can fall apart&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart&lt;br /&gt;Thursday doesn't even start&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, wait&lt;br /&gt;And Sunday always comes too late&lt;br /&gt;But Friday, never hesitate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if Mondays black&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Wednesday - heart attack&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, never looking back&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, you can hold your head&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed&lt;br /&gt;Or Thursday - watch the walls instead&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, wait&lt;br /&gt;And Sunday always comes too late&lt;br /&gt;But Friday, never hesitate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dressed up to the eyes&lt;br /&gt;It's a wonderful surprise&lt;br /&gt;To see your shoes and your spirits rise&lt;br /&gt;Throwing out your frown&lt;br /&gt;And just smiling at the sound&lt;br /&gt;And as sleek as a shriek&lt;br /&gt;Spinning round and round&lt;br /&gt;Always take a big bite&lt;br /&gt;It's such a gorgeous sight&lt;br /&gt;To see you eat in the middle of the night&lt;br /&gt;You can never get enough&lt;br /&gt;Enough of this stuff&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if Monday's blue&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too&lt;br /&gt;Thursday I don't care about you&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday, I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday you can fall apart&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart&lt;br /&gt;Thursday doesn't even start&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday I'm in love&lt;br /&gt;-Cure: Friday I'm in Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3847015298344006055?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3847015298344006055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3847015298344006055' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3847015298344006055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3847015298344006055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#3847015298344006055' title='Cure for your Friday'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6062894939693765185</id><published>2007-07-04T09:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T09:24:48.382-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'M BACK!</title><content type='html'>It has been entirely too long since I've posted. I’m actually quite embarrassed about it to be honest. But with starting a new job that requires me staring at a computer in a dark little room and working on our film, I've been exhausted. But thank goodness from Freedom because my sweet little one-day holiday has allowed me to sleep in, get some rest, and sit in my bed any pour out my mind again. It feels good to be back. I've missed it.&lt;br /&gt;No a lot has happened, but a lot has happened...if that makes any since at all. I've managed to start not just a new job, but a career, produce a movie, take several road trips for the movie, buy pools and porta-jons, house sit for 2 weeks, entertain family from out of town, plan a party, and help my dad remodel their basement. Needless to say this morning I realized how stretched thin I have been. I can't complain too much because I have enjoyed every moment of it. Somehow life has turned into this chaotic hodgepodge of events and duties that's left me surprisingly pumped about life. &lt;br /&gt;This being my first time back in a very long time, I'm pretty much going to ramble about bits and pieces of my life. To begin I learned that huskie will eat anything that is your favorite. For example, favorite work out top, favorite pair of underwear, favorite bathing suit, favorite rug, and favorite throw pillows. All these things were eaten in on week. I was house sitting for my brother while he was in Italy. I had the privilege of keeping his dog, Chloe, as well. I love the dog, but she gets stir crazy when you're not there during the day and hyper when it rains, which was all week. I can't forget either that she is a huskie which means that she can pretty much get into ANYTHING. So if you lock it up, she'll find a way to get it. Here's a picture of the mess from a feather pillow. I though it was humorous.&lt;br /&gt;Work is still going well. I come in early and leave late. I hate the coffee but love candy dish in the editors lobby. I pride myself in the fact that I'm positive I have psycho analyzed every NASCAR driver and have them figured out better than they even know themselves. For example, Juan Montoya (former Formula 1 driver) has serious self absorbency issues which result is excellent driver communication audio; Steven Wallace has turrets. His turrets word, dang. He says it more than a 13 year old girl saying "like." Dale Earnhardt Jr. is cool, I have to admit it. Ryan Newman is really my ex (or my ex is a triplet...it's official, Nate Webers, Ryan Newman, and Mark Walburg are all brothers!) which means that my ex was really married and racing cars the whole time we were together. No wonder it was a "long distance" relationship. &lt;br /&gt;Occupied is beginning to come together. Things are working out better than I thought, then kind of fall apart a little, then end up working back out. I've managed to keep a lot of those worries a secret from Shea, who is directing. We've taken several trips to pick up props and meet with our director of photography. In those trips we've confidently learned that, when together, Shea and I are cursed. Apart, we can get to any location on the planet without getting lost. Together its a mess of wrong turns, wrong directions, bad navigational skills and a quick on set of dyslexia. Now, this has caused slight tension between us in our working relationship. I'm convinced he is always like this and visa versa. It's resulted in some in car frustration and bickering, but looking back quite humorous. I just hope that this isn't going to be a pattern for future works. If so, I'm hiring a driver for us.&lt;br /&gt;It's July 4th and what better way to celebrate than to have my favorite college roommate in town, Emma Davis. She's amazing and together we are pair of laughing, clumsy idiots...it's wonderful. I'll dedicate a post to her one of these days.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RoufWu9DVxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/kwU5y3ydHSM/s1600-h/IMG_0606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RoufWu9DVxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/kwU5y3ydHSM/s200/IMG_0606.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083331817327777554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; But for now, I’m going to wish you a Happy July 4th!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6062894939693765185?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6062894939693765185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6062894939693765185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6062894939693765185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6062894939693765185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#6062894939693765185' title='I&apos;M BACK!'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RoufWu9DVxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/kwU5y3ydHSM/s72-c/IMG_0606.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3472884328432061000</id><published>2007-06-21T19:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T20:39:40.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lights, Camera, Wallace Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsY2Xju3YI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-TrxCT1ggTU/s1600-h/nascar_l.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsY2Xju3YI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-TrxCT1ggTU/s200/nascar_l.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078680327106256258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I finally got my chance to get out of the editing room. After telling a senior producer Tuesday, at lunch, how much I deserve to be producing instead of clipping footage, I got what was coming to me...a location shoot. Later that day, right before I headed out for the evening, a hand reaches over my shoulder from behind me and places a sheet of paper on my desk. Startled, I spun around in my chair to see who it was. A skinny, tan, freckled face man stood there smiling at me. "Oh, hey Harry. You scared the mess out me. What's up?" Harry was the senior producer I talked to earlier that day. With his famous friendly smile he nudged my shoulder with a fist and said, "Every executive producer here has been talking about you. Don't disappoint me kid." He walked out the door and I was left in my dark editing room confused. I look down at the sheet of paper and in bold, capital letters, at the top read "CALL LOG." Now for those of you who don't know, a call log is a sheet of paper that tells directions, times, people, locations, equipment, ect. for a shoot. I scan down the page and at the very bottom was some chicken scratch that read "Be in the camera department at 8 am." What?! Was I really going to be a PA on a shoot after not even 2 weeks on the job? I stuff the call log in my blue, official, NASCAR Images back pack and skip out the door. I was so excited I forgot to grab my leftovers from lunch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I show up wired on coffee and extremely excited. Saul, a producer who I knew from my internship, gives me a friendly greeting filled with explicatives, in classic Saul manner. "You're PAing today! Holy S#*@. That's &amp;*$% awesome!" I smile as he messes up my hair and hands me a Diet Coke (my usual). After meeting the 8 people going on the shoot, all guys who were dying to talk about sports and women (lovely), I hop in the van for what I knew was going to be a crazy day. After a 30 minute ride we arrive at a 10,000 square foot house. We load out and there before us was Mike Wallace, brother of Kenny and Rusty Wallace. The Wallace family is similar to the Earnhardt or Petty family; they are legends in the sport of stock car racing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsXh3ju3XI/AAAAAAAAAFg/qkCdwALSWgo/s1600-h/cw_home4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsXh3ju3XI/AAAAAAAAAFg/qkCdwALSWgo/s400/cw_home4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078678875407310194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mike walks us through his house to help us find a good location to do the interview with him and his daughter. Then the senior producer on the shoot looks over at me and says, "It's your call Liner. Tell them where to set up." Surprised, I walk out the door and tell the lighting crew to move into the living room (which was the size of half a tennis court, about. I look over at the 8 guys I rode with and gave my first order as a Production Assistant, "Go move all the furniture out of the room, except for the couch and coffee table...please." After two hours of set up and me sitting on the couch as a stand in for camera and lighting checks, I move to the corner by the dolly and chill. Before I knew it the interview with Mike and his daughter (who is also a racer) was over. We spend 45 minutes breaking down, shake hands with the racing legend one more time then head out for lunch, which was charged to the company credit card. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work life started out a little rocky for me. The first day I quit, found another job and was rehired. But now I'm happy that I stayed. For the first time I realized that there are a lot of people in the company who believe in me and are willing to go to any extent to help me out and give me the chance to prove how good I am at my job. It's been a crazy week, but a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsWkHju3WI/AAAAAAAAAFY/_zqQmWcqFI0/s1600-h/wallace_fam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsWkHju3WI/AAAAAAAAAFY/_zqQmWcqFI0/s400/wallace_fam.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078677814550388066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenny (left), Rusty (center), Mike Wallace&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3472884328432061000?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3472884328432061000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3472884328432061000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3472884328432061000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3472884328432061000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#3472884328432061000' title='Lights, Camera, Wallace Family'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RnsY2Xju3YI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-TrxCT1ggTU/s72-c/nascar_l.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6006240986230059307</id><published>2007-06-19T08:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T08:59:43.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Booked up Life</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted anything in a week due to the fact that life has gotten out of control. Between work at the studio and work at home and traveling, I've barely had time to process. So as I wait for our editing system to reboot here at work, I thought I'd send this little ditty out to let everyone know I'm still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back with some better stuff. Promise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6006240986230059307?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6006240986230059307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6006240986230059307' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6006240986230059307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6006240986230059307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#6006240986230059307' title='Booked up Life'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6052539722184350398</id><published>2007-06-12T22:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T23:01:21.554-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Amusement</title><content type='html'>This past Saturday, my family and I took a trip to Asheville, NC to clean out my grandparents’ house. This quaint little 1,000 square foot house served has a home to my grandparents and their 3 sons for over 50 years. Needless to say that, although small, this house was pack full of things collected over the years. The upstairs was filled with family heirloom furniture and china. The basement was just full of all kinds of weird things from waders to film to WW2 Uniforms. We spend 4 straight hours filling up the truck with "junk" and making piles for donations and making another pile for keep sakes. I felt I had the best job of all. Because my family considers me the artsy one, I was assigned pictures, film, and letters. Now, this was amazing. I found post cards from the war, old/original Western Union love letters sent from my grandfather to my grandmother, pictures, photography magazines from the 40's, and most interesting, war journals and random items taken from Japanese soldiers killed by my grandfather in the front lines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather never talked about the war. My grandmother didn't even know much. You always hear crazy stories, but this past weekend I realized that my grandfather was one of the few front line machine gunmen to walk away from war uninjured and alive. Chills went down my spine as my fingers rubbed over bullet shells, journals, buttons, and chow cards. These things had been through something that I knew I would never see or understand. It inspired me in a strange way. In a few hours I learned the deepest secrets about my Papaw that were hidden from me for 22 years. He became human. He became a hero. The same 22-year-old hands that held a machine gun in battle where the same hands that combed through my hair when I went to bed as a little girl. Our grandparents have a history and a life that is full of adventures and stories that captivate me, which gets me to think that I myself am going to be a grandparent one day. I am going to be the one with secret adventures and exciting tales that will be discovered in a box in my basement, after I’m gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of boxes, my sister-in-law found a box full of eyeglasses. We couldn't just toss them in the trash pile without having some fun. So my mom, sister-in-law, and I grab the 3 "best" pair and snap a quick photo after we were done carrying out mock conversations in squeaky, nerd tone voices. Enjoy my family’s dorkiness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rm9donju3VI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/SQHEml8Aw9I/s1600-h/IMG_0694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rm9donju3VI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/SQHEml8Aw9I/s400/IMG_0694.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075378257464843602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6052539722184350398?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6052539722184350398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6052539722184350398' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6052539722184350398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6052539722184350398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#6052539722184350398' title='Self Amusement'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rm9donju3VI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/SQHEml8Aw9I/s72-c/IMG_0694.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-9074781396997574198</id><published>2007-06-11T21:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T22:27:11.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Occupied</title><content type='html'>As many of you know form reading the Shea of the Dead blog, (un)Heralded Films has offically started its first project. This short film is entitled Occupied. We believe that (un)Heralded is going to make a huge impact on us as young filmmakers, and the film industry in Charlotte, NC. Check out our new blog and keep up with what's going on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rm34Fnju3SI/AAAAAAAAAE8/R66zUq_1aNg/s1600-h/unh_logo_finalb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rm34Fnju3SI/AAAAAAAAAE8/R66zUq_1aNg/s400/unh_logo_finalb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074985130518306082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-9074781396997574198?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/9074781396997574198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=9074781396997574198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/9074781396997574198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/9074781396997574198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#9074781396997574198' title='Occupied'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rm34Fnju3SI/AAAAAAAAAE8/R66zUq_1aNg/s72-c/unh_logo_finalb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-2519429596754630322</id><published>2007-06-10T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T16:27:09.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ocean's Thirteen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmxeM3ju3RI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ib-6sR6PWws/s1600-h/08oceans600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmxeM3ju3RI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ib-6sR6PWws/s320/08oceans600.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074534455304969490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danny Ocean and his gang team up on more time for a third heist. When casino owner Willy Bank double-crosses one of the original eleven, Reuben Tishkoff (Elliot Gould), they decide to pull another fast one, but not for their own personal gain. This time it's for revenge. &lt;br /&gt;I was hesitant in coming into this movie because I've been slightly disappointed by the past 3rd sequels I've seen this year. Fortunately this one was the better of the list. There was a good continuity and flow between Ocean's Twelve and Thirteen. As for the story, I was impressed. We were given what we expected to see, but also fed some new material that kept the story different from the past two. The plot moved quick, which is typical for Ocean's, and you needed to pay attention or you'd miss why one sub-plot was happening. &lt;br /&gt;There were no big character changes to throw you off and all previous characters made an appearance.  Each character had their own style that carried well leaving no one the chance to snatch the spotlight, which is a good thing in my book. &lt;br /&gt;Overall the film was enjoyable. The story was entertaining and the actors put out a good performance. The only thing I was disappointed with was the directing. I felt it was a little drier than the previous. Considering the story and the setting, I think that Soderburgh could have taken a few more visual chances to make it pop. But don't get me wrong; it's still a great film that mostly everyone will enjoy. It will keep you laughing and entertained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmxeB3ju3QI/AAAAAAAAAEs/nZQ5aqnfqUM/s1600-h/2405510.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmxeB3ju3QI/AAAAAAAAAEs/nZQ5aqnfqUM/s400/2405510.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074534266326408450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-2519429596754630322?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/2519429596754630322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=2519429596754630322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2519429596754630322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2519429596754630322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#2519429596754630322' title='Ocean&apos;s Thirteen'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmxeM3ju3RI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ib-6sR6PWws/s72-c/08oceans600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-2256374621962349339</id><published>2007-06-07T13:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T14:47:27.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'>KAA U KNOW!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhSmHju3NI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nCcCtZePNyw/s1600-h/n11804268_30091325_1820.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhSmHju3NI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nCcCtZePNyw/s320/n11804268_30091325_1820.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073395795050290386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked at a summer camp several years in Branson, Missouri. The camp is part of Kanakuk Kamps, but is non-profit and for urban youth. Kids Across America was an amazing experience for me and was where I turned into the person I am today. This is my second summer not working at KAA and every year I get a little depressed around this time. This year, a very good friend of mine is working her first summer at kamp (we spell everything with a "K"). I haven't seen her in almost 6 years, yet we talk on the phone almost every day. She is more or less a sister to me. I hadn't talked to her in about 2 weeks, and today I get a call from her while she was on her 2-4 (day off). As I listened to all the familiar stories and emotions that I went through as well, it made me want to buy a plan ticket and fly out to Branson. For those of you who have never worked at a summer camp or even worked with urban youth, it is one of the most stressful, exhausting, yet most satisfying thing you will ever do in your life. Many summers of my life were spent here at kamp or in the Bronx, Philly, St. Louis, Brooklyn or Washington DC loving on kids who never see love. Today, talking with Becca on the phone, I realized once more how much I miss that part of my life that's now been taken over with more adult responsibilities. I sat on the phone for over an hour (which is huge because I'm not the best phone conversationalist) reliving memories and doing all the kamp cheers/raps with Becca for the first time in 2 years. Its saddens me that I will never go back to my second home in Missouri, or never live out a whole summer in soccer shorts, cut off t-shirts, terrible tan lines, and ridiculous costumes. Every 4th of July will be haunted by the memory of 500 kampers living it up at a concert by Lecrae, insane games and sugar rushes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhRz3ju3LI/AAAAAAAAAEE/TjCJdX5VP_Y/s1600-h/n11804268_30237349_6070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhRz3ju3LI/AAAAAAAAAEE/TjCJdX5VP_Y/s320/n11804268_30237349_6070.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073394931761863858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no matter how much I miss kamp and miss those people who became a second family to me, I can't help but be happy that I'm not there. This past summer I was able to meet amazing people and make connections with a company that would offer me a job I couldn't refuse. This summer, if I were at kamp, I wouldn't be living out a dream. I'm beginning an exciting new career and figuring how to live out my dream with some of the most wonderful people I've ever met...I guess what I'm rambling about is that there are seasons in life that make you who you are. I graduated from college thinking that I will never experience something as great as kamp ever again; nothing will ever make as big an impact on my life. I couldn't have been more wrong. Life changing experiences aren't always mind blowing and exhausting. If it wasn't for the small hand full of people I've met the past few months and the passion that these people have shown me, I'm convinced that I wouldn't be as happy and satisfied with where my life is going as I am at this moment. Kamp changed my life, no doubt, and I miss it. But life right now is more exciting and holds more mystery than ever. The Lord has placed the most interesting and intriguing people in my life; these people are shaping and refining the person kamp made me, which is a pretty amazing feeling. Life seems to have it's dull moments, but if you are willing to take the time to step back and acknowledge some things we all take for granted, you will realize that life is never dull and will never stop shaping us into the people we are meant to be. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhREXju3KI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4KD39OmDNjQ/s1600-h/n11804268_30091322_9723.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhREXju3KI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4KD39OmDNjQ/s320/n11804268_30091322_9723.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073394115718077602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-2256374621962349339?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/2256374621962349339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=2256374621962349339' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2256374621962349339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2256374621962349339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#2256374621962349339' title='KAA U KNOW!'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmhSmHju3NI/AAAAAAAAAEU/nCcCtZePNyw/s72-c/n11804268_30091325_1820.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-961157754916697820</id><published>2007-06-03T17:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T18:42:27.007-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Clumsy Endeavors</title><content type='html'>I spent 12 years cheerleading and tumbling and dancing; I'm able to climb rocks, kayak the sea, wakeboard, and even complete a ropes course 40 feet up in the trees...blindfolded. But when it comes to the simpler things in life, I am a complete mess. For example, I've managed to lose a shoe while wearing it, I trip over pretty much anything if there is nothing there, I spill or knock over things (displays in stores are my usual), and I've caught multiple things on fire. We might as well add the fact that I've developed multiple allergies the past 3 years to the strangest things on earth. But despite all these, walking is usually the biggest issue for me. I walk into things, which include, but are not limited to: parked cars, trees, doors (glass and solid), walls, open doors, people, furniture, etc. Oh, and I walk off, or fall as some people might say, stairs, porches, stools, docks, boats and sidewalks. I really have no idea how this happens, I'm actually very aware of my surroundings. I can remember everything in a room within the first few seconds of being in it. Unfortunately my coordination does not allow me to avoid these things when walking through the room. Some days are worst than others. In college I would routinely tip over in my desk or get my backpack stuck on something. This weekend has been one of those weekends that leaves my family wondering how I'm still alive with all my limbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two days I have cut my angle by falling in the shower, rolled my arm up in the car window (have a bruise), shot a pint of ice-cream across the kitchen in attempts to scoop out my share (big mess and stained clothes), hit my mom in the face/eye with a lemon slice at lunch, trip 3 times in a row while walking down the street, break a coffee mug (to embarrassed to share that story), walk into my bedroom door which resulted in a swollen and slightly bloody finger, and get my hand stuck in a display at the store. Now before you judge, let me reemphasize that this is not the usual. Normally all these things will happen over the course of 7 days instead of 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one else in my family is like this. All my life I've been "The clumsy one." I even have my own First Aid box at my parents house, and when I say box I don't mean the cute white ones you get from the store, this thing is bigger and filled full of the essentials to survive anything that might happen. The sad thing is that my family has grown accustom to my misfortune. Every time I fall, knock something over, or anything that I listed above, without looking up from what they are doing simply ask (while trying not to laugh) "You Ok?" Sometimes my dad will ask if I need Advil, ice or band-aids. But why did I choose to tell you this about myself? Simply to let you know that despite my inability to move without hurting myself, I can still laugh about it. I've moved past getting embarrassed when I eat pavement in public or destroy the bathrobe display in Macy's. It's who I am, I can't change it or I would have already, and without it I probably would take myself too serious. So with that, here is my profound advice to the blogworld...Don't take yourself so serious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmNCxqPXozI/AAAAAAAAADk/MWJxU9oZM6I/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmNCxqPXozI/AAAAAAAAADk/MWJxU9oZM6I/s320/3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071971026269086514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is me at 3. Note the bandages and bruises on my legs. The story behind this is that I later dropped the steak in my hand when I fell off the counter. True story...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-961157754916697820?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/961157754916697820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=961157754916697820' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/961157754916697820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/961157754916697820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#961157754916697820' title='Clumsy Endeavors'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmNCxqPXozI/AAAAAAAAADk/MWJxU9oZM6I/s72-c/3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6742861001386445909</id><published>2007-06-01T15:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T15:43:32.604-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gas Pains</title><content type='html'>My mom is always sending me little e-mails to keep me entertained. She sent one this morning with cartoons addressing the high gas prices. Just thought I'd share some of them with my fellow bloggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB116PXowI/AAAAAAAAADM/RwxYj_pat-o/s1600-h/mail-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB116PXowI/AAAAAAAAADM/RwxYj_pat-o/s320/mail-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071182749446415106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB116PXoxI/AAAAAAAAADU/OMOm1QdtWZo/s1600-h/mail-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB116PXoxI/AAAAAAAAADU/OMOm1QdtWZo/s320/mail-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071182749446415122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB12KPXoyI/AAAAAAAAADc/4GGDIpJtq5M/s1600-h/mail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB12KPXoyI/AAAAAAAAADc/4GGDIpJtq5M/s320/mail.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071182753741382434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB1o6PXouI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FQSF7YH-6pE/s1600-h/mail-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB1o6PXouI/AAAAAAAAAC8/FQSF7YH-6pE/s320/mail-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071182526108115682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB1pKPXovI/AAAAAAAAADE/ADHEqbqsqjg/s1600-h/mail-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB1pKPXovI/AAAAAAAAADE/ADHEqbqsqjg/s320/mail-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071182530403082994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6742861001386445909?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6742861001386445909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6742861001386445909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6742861001386445909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6742861001386445909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#6742861001386445909' title='Gas Pains'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RmB116PXowI/AAAAAAAAADM/RwxYj_pat-o/s72-c/mail-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6110709355140830374</id><published>2007-06-01T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T00:55:58.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorado Corks</title><content type='html'>Every Easter, back in the day, my family would head of to the Rocky Mountains for some serious skiing and snowboarding. One year, after a long day on the slopes, and suffering from mild bruises from the double black diamond my brother and I wisely decided to attempt, we to head out into the small town of Steamboat to search for an ice cream shop (a weakness we as siblings share). We turn the corner and find ourselves in front of a pub that has moose and bear heads mounted on the walls, along with a life size wooden statue of a grizzly outside. Interested, we walk in. The thought of ice cream completely slips our minds as we see a mound of goodness pass before us in the form of nachos. We pull out all our spare change, count it up and decided to cancel the ice cream date and go straight for the 7,000 calorie snack. After ordering, the waitress invites us to play some pool or darts as we waited for our food. My brother nods in agreement then punches me in the arm to signal that it was time for me to get my butt schooled in darts. I take one more swig of my water and slowly walk behind my brother, already feeling the defeat. In usual Krystal manner, something in the distance distracts me. Without warning the big brother where I was going, I slip off to the back corner of the pub and stare up at the most interesting and useful thing I had ever seen. It was a HUGE tack board made of wine corks. I mean, this thing was at least 7x7 ft. An older man, obviously a local by his dirty jeans and worn cowboy hat, thumps me on the arm and says, "Pretty neat ain't it?" Mouth half open and eyes wide, I nod. "They save up those corks from the bar and add on to it every year. There's another over on the other wall," then points his weathered finger over to an even larger cork board that almost covers the wall. By this point my brother runs over, half worried and half mad he didn't get to dominate me in darts, and fusses at me for having the attention span of a gnat. It didn't take long before the giant wall of wine corks caught his eye as well. As we both stood there with our mouths open in amazement, our waitress signals us to follow her back to our table to chow down on our food. We sit down, say the quickest blessing ever said and begin to stuff our faces. I stop in mid-chew and say, "I'm going to start saving wine corks."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rl-lB6PXotI/AAAAAAAAAC0/OLddvheI08s/s1600-h/will4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rl-lB6PXotI/AAAAAAAAAC0/OLddvheI08s/s400/will4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070953157674640082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that moment on, I've stood by my word. I've been collecting wine corks from family events, parties, restaurants, etc for about 10 years now. I have no idea how many I have. So Yesterday I decided to pull down my collection and begin to lay them out in a pattern. I have enough corks right now to make a 4x4 ft. something (oh, and 3 champagne corks that I have no clue what to do with). So here is my question. What should I do with the corks? I was thinking about making side tables or a coffee table. Any other suggestions? Oh, and just because I've decided to turn my collection into something does not mean I will stop. Heck, now I will have more room to save more corks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6110709355140830374?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6110709355140830374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6110709355140830374' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6110709355140830374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6110709355140830374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#6110709355140830374' title='Colorado Corks'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rl-lB6PXotI/AAAAAAAAAC0/OLddvheI08s/s72-c/will4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3543984777657617651</id><published>2007-05-29T09:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T11:02:55.484-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Babel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rlw_yT2d4FI/AAAAAAAAACk/UCMFJDcsZqw/s1600-h/babel_l200607272246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rlw_yT2d4FI/AAAAAAAAACk/UCMFJDcsZqw/s400/babel_l200607272246.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069997414067069010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four vastly different lives are all connected when a single gunshot hits a woman on a tour bus in Morocco. The end result is the revelation of the complexity of humanity and the struggles we face that make everyone in the world more familiar than we realize. In Morocco, a struggling married couple is on vacation trying to work out their differences. Meanwhile, a Moroccan herder buys a rifle for his sons so they can keep the jackals away from his herd. A girl in Japan dealing with rejection, the death of her mother, the emotional distance of her father, her own self-consciousness, and a physical disability, deals with modern life in Tokyo, Japan. Then, on the opposite side of the world, a nanny takes the two children she watches to her son's wedding in Mexico, only to come into trouble on the return trip. In the end these four stories fit together to make a power statement about miscommunication and the interconnectivity of the lives of humans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had several judgments in my mind before I even watched this movie. I was expecting an amazing movie due to the Oscar it won, along with 22 other awards. On the other hand, I had several people warned me about the strong political statement that this film portrayed and how the four stories result in slight confusion.  As for here, I'm just give you my opinion of this film, free from any personal views on the world. I will go ahead and say that I enjoyed the movie. My favorite thing about this film is the music and the characters. The score in this movie is amazing, hence the Oscar. Each story had it's own unique sound that made a huge emotional impact. There was no singular, mainstream, genre to the music. For example, the Moroccan story had classic Moroccan music that sounded as if villagers came into the studio and played themselves. As for the characters, they were amazing. The faces of each character, whether it be the stars or the stand-ins, were so real. You could see every wrinkle, every dark circle under they eye, every imperfection on the face (yes, even Brad Pitt has some serious crows feet). The attention to imperfection made it almost as if you were watching a documentary.  Never once did I notice the acting, which is a good thing, every character was believable. One more thing that caught my eye was the heavy use of a handheld. There were no super fancy camera tricks or special effects. Almost every shot attempted to catch the exact point of view of someone. So if director Alejandro González Iñárritu wanted the viewer to see the action from the eyes of the tourist behind the crowd, that's where the camera was. Each scene was carefully thought out in order to get the experience of multiple characters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What most people want to know is how I feel about the political voice. I'm not going to voice that opinion, but I will say it is refreshing to see a movie that departs from the mainstream. No matter what my political view may be, I respect the writer and director for taking a chance on a touchy subject, and I believe that they were very successful in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ct61ifrnCOw"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ct61ifrnCOw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3543984777657617651?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3543984777657617651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3543984777657617651' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3543984777657617651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3543984777657617651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#3543984777657617651' title='Babel'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rlw_yT2d4FI/AAAAAAAAACk/UCMFJDcsZqw/s72-c/babel_l200607272246.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-832878785385806932</id><published>2007-05-22T23:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T00:10:22.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Celluliod Dreams Are Coming True</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlO-bT2d4EI/AAAAAAAAACc/zc5VPKhJpLE/s1600-h/10m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlO-bT2d4EI/AAAAAAAAACc/zc5VPKhJpLE/s400/10m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067603382116409410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On The LOT, executive-produced by Mark Burnett and Steven Spielberg, gives aspiring filmmakers from around the world the chance to earn a $1-million development deal at DreamWorks.  After a global search and over 12,000 submissions, a group of talented filmmakers have been selected from the applicants. These finalists have been brought to Hollywood, where they have been divided into teams and begun the journey toward their "big break."  This reality-competition series features undiscovered filmmakers who will compete to win the support of the show's viewers, as their fate will be decided by a weekly audience vote.  ON THE LOT will regularly air on Mondays and Tuesdays, with a one-hour "Film Premiere" episode (a live audience views and critiques their films), followed the next night by a half-hour "Box Office" results show (one director will be cut).  Every week, these hopeful filmmakers will produce short films from a chosen genre, running the gamut from comedies to thrillers, dramas to romance, action to horror. They'll have access to the best resources the industry has to offer -- professional writers, cast and crew, and maybe even Hollywood celebrities.  Judges for the "Audition Rounds" included actress/author/screenwriter Carrie Fisher ("Star Wars," "Postcards From the Edge") and directors/producers Brett Ratner ("Rush Hour 3," "X-Men 3"), Garry Marshall ("Georgia Rule," "Pretty Woman") and Jon Avnet ("Fried Green Tomatoes", "Risky Business").  More well-respected guest judges will appear as the show progresses, such as directors who are experts in the week's featured genre. But the filmmakers will ultimately be judged by the public.  This is pretty much an American Idolish type show, only in the fact that there are judges/experts but the fate of the filmmakers is in the hands of the views.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard about this show around Christmas and knew that it was something I was going to have to watch. I'm not the biggest TV watcher outside of my 2 favorite shows so making the choice to sit in front of the boob tube for and hour proved how excited I was to see the premier of On The LOT. I'm going to go ahead and be honest, this is going to be one show this summer that will get in the way of any of my Monday and Tuesday night scheduling. Five minutes into the show I was already screening phone calls. Maybe it's the desire I myself have to make movies all my life, but I literally felt sick to my stomach nervous for these guys as they went through their first challenge, which was to pitch a film to the judges based on a premise given to them at the beginning of the show.  It's so cool to see so many personalities and filming styles in one place being forced to work together and collaborate. That alone should make for some good reality TV drama, but that isn't what I'm looking forward to. It is going to be amazing to watch what these filmmakers come up with under the intense pressure of knowing some of Hollywood's most talented directors are going to be watching their personal work. I know I'd probably piddle all over myself from the excitement and nervousness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was going to write a review on The Untouchables, but this show turned out to be pretty amazing. So if you love film then I recommend checking this show out, I think you won't be disappointed. Also check out the website (www.thelot.com), it's pretty cool as well. There is a place to submit you own films, watch films of the day and daily blogs! One more random thing, Verizon is a sponsor for this show and has some pretty great commercials that I believe depict a comedic view the chaos that will one day be my household and my attempts to not settle for a typical home video.&lt;br /&gt;Who knows maybe one day Shea or I will be on the show battling it out for an office at DreamWorks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-832878785385806932?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/832878785385806932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=832878785385806932' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/832878785385806932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/832878785385806932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#832878785385806932' title='Celluliod Dreams Are Coming True'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlO-bT2d4EI/AAAAAAAAACc/zc5VPKhJpLE/s72-c/10m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3775691480572730869</id><published>2007-05-21T01:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T01:58:38.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pan's Labyrinth</title><content type='html'>The time finally came for me to watch Pan's Labyrinth. My last semester of college left me busy from dawn to midnight and also scraping the bottom of the money bucket. Unfortunately, those two things quickly forced me to limit myself to the essentials of life: food, bills and school. I shouldn't make excuses to my lack of movie watching over the past few months, but I feel like I need to explain why I hadn't seen this amazing movie yet. The good news is, that time of my life is over and I have crossed off one more movie off of my list of 23 I need to see from the past few months On to the movie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlEyjD2d4AI/AAAAAAAAAB8/6lz09psyA2w/s1600-h/trailer_12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlEyjD2d4AI/AAAAAAAAAB8/6lz09psyA2w/s320/trailer_12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066886633679085570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spain, 1944. Officially, the Civil War has been over for five years, but a small group of rebels fight on in the northern mountains of Navarra. 10-year-old Ofelia moves to Navarra with her pregnant and sick mother Carmen, to become acquainted with her new stepfather, Captain Vidal, a Fascist officer under orders to rid the territory of rebels. Ofelia, who is fascinated by fairy tales, discovers an overgrown, tumbledown labyrinth behind the mill. In the heart of the labyrinth she meets Pan, an ancient satyr who claims to know her true identity and her secret destiny. But first, she must complete three tasks before the moon grows full. And no one must know: not her ailing mother, or her new friend, Mercedes. Both Ofelia and the rebels have to battle hardship and cruelty in order to gain their freedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a classic story of good vs. evil, bravery and truth, love and sacrifice. The lives of each character is filled with a struggle and fight for something they believe to be truth, their place in carrying out the truth, and the dedication and passion each have to make sure the truth wins in the end. It's a story about the power of an idea in action. Not only is the story amazing, but the visual aspect blew my mind. I've read several articles on the making of this movie and watched a couple clips, they do not do this film, in it's entirety, justice. It's was beautiful, every piece of it. For those who have seen it I know this sounds strange because of some of the graphic violence, but even these scenes had a coloring and lighting to them that made them seem magical. The whole film was blanketed in rich golds, blues, greens and reds. The textures in the setting were limitless and unique. Several times my jaw literally dropped in amazment. It took everything in me to keep from saying "wow" and "incrdible" at times. I didn't want to disturb those around me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlEy0z2d4CI/AAAAAAAAACM/CvHdP0EVWCE/s1600-h/trailer_18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlEy0z2d4CI/AAAAAAAAACM/CvHdP0EVWCE/s320/trailer_18.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066886938621763618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could find the right words to say about this film, but it has left me speechless. You just have to see it to understand. The best way to describe it is breathtaking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3775691480572730869?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3775691480572730869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3775691480572730869' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3775691480572730869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3775691480572730869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#3775691480572730869' title='Pan&apos;s Labyrinth'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RlEyjD2d4AI/AAAAAAAAAB8/6lz09psyA2w/s72-c/trailer_12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3715506668965531099</id><published>2007-05-19T00:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T02:00:46.087-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Agenda</title><content type='html'>Besides graduating and moving, not much is going on in my life. I'm beginning to slowly realize that maybe the things I find absolutely the best entertainment in life aren't really that interesting to the normal person. Below is a list of the upcoming events that I will be writing on in the near future:&lt;br /&gt;1. Review of The Untouchables&lt;br /&gt;2. First day of work with NASCAR Images&lt;br /&gt;3. Two weeks of freedom that will be filled with random goodness including, but not limited to, Lake Norman, painting, writing, reading what I want, chillin with Carissa and her wonderful daughter, maybe dying my hair&lt;br /&gt;4. Unpacking. This seems mundane, but if you know me and my lack of cordination and the dialogue that usually happens between my mother and I, you can understand that there WILL be several good stories that come out of this&lt;br /&gt;5. Graduation money to be spent on some pretty amazing climbing gear and other goodness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rk6C9D2d3_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/0XRk9Rma2j8/s1600-h/misusingslanggh1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rk6C9D2d3_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/0XRk9Rma2j8/s320/misusingslanggh1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066130616355774450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3715506668965531099?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3715506668965531099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3715506668965531099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3715506668965531099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3715506668965531099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#3715506668965531099' title='Agenda'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/Rk6C9D2d3_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/0XRk9Rma2j8/s72-c/misusingslanggh1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-5235407725513512974</id><published>2007-05-16T22:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T22:21:53.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving the Pack</title><content type='html'>Well, all the boxes have been packed, the good byes have been said, my quaint Raleigh home is empty, my diploma has been placed in a cherry wood frame, my cap and gown are safely folded up with my tassel and Cum Laude sash, and I've made it to my new home. It's strange how quickly all this comes and passes when for 17 years I've been waiting for what seemed like forever to finally be done with the headache that is school. Now that it's here, I can't help but feel an array of emotions, the most familiar of these being sadness. Four years of my life have been in Raleigh where I learned to be an adult and trained for the day that is, well, today. A wave of relief and joy comes over me when I think that I will no longer spend an all nighter studying for a test or writing a paper, or arguing with a professor to get that extra .4 points or praying to get into that one class that I need to graduate on time or sweet talking the guy at the gym to let me in without my ID or spending my summer savings on books. On the other hand, it troubles me to think that I will never have that random 3:30am run to Cookout for a milkshake, watch people trip in the brickyard when it rains, take a nap in my favorite spot in the Court of the Carolinas, drink a Blue Moon before class over at Mitch's Tavern, camp out for NCSU vs. UNC basketball tickets, or take the 1-40 sign in the middle of the night because we don't have enough money to play a prank. &lt;br /&gt;Raleigh has treated me well these past few years and I am a different person now than when I came. I'm excited to move forward to my new home in Charlotte with a new job and what will soon be new friends. All my life I've had my life planned out, where I would go to school, what I will do over the summers, what my Monday-Friday will look like, who I will hang out with. I guess it's the spontaneous side of me that's grown over the years, but I love not knowing what life holds for me from now on out. Maybe it's because I love adventure, maybe it's because the stresses of "real" life haven't gotten to me yet, or maybe, most likely, I know that God has blessed me more than I can understand in the past and I know he's faithful to continue to bless me on this new journey.  Either way I'm excited. The sadness of leaving the familiar is still fresh on my heart, but the desire for a new adventure is growing stronger and stronger. &lt;br /&gt; I'll keep you posted on my adventure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-5235407725513512974?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/5235407725513512974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=5235407725513512974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5235407725513512974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/5235407725513512974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#5235407725513512974' title='Leaving the Pack'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6548031077289508143</id><published>2007-04-19T11:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T12:37:12.989-04:00</updated><title type='text'>iKoolAid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RieRPS9tuLI/AAAAAAAAAA8/OMaeKIashF8/s1600-h/cult.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RieRPS9tuLI/AAAAAAAAAA8/OMaeKIashF8/s320/cult.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055168798721423538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For years I've been lusting over Mac computers, dreaming of the day I would one day have my own. I would go to the Apple web page and navigate my way through all the goodness. Sometimes I would resist the urge to launch my sad little PC laptop across the room, especially when I went to check out movie trailers and I kept getting the pop up "Unable to recognize file." I would then say to myself "It's probably because you're stupid. I wouldn't have this problem with Mac, cause it knows all." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of the story is coming soon so bare with me... I know this sounds crazy and a little obsessive, especially for those closed minded PC owners who believe that Apple computers are confusing (it's all a big lie that PC has put in your head because it knows it's inferior to the power of Mac). I once was that person, but I was introduced to an iMac a 18 years old along with Final Cut and realized that I have been missing out. So the next 5 years of my life I spent in turmoil over the fact I was having to reprogram my laptop 3 times because of some trojan worm or something and the reality that I didn't have enough money to purchase the object of my affection...the glorious MacBook Pro (cue in dramatic trumpet and drum music).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My luck finally caught up with me this past Monday when my neighbor received a giant box in the mail. What was in this box? &lt;br /&gt;A brand new MacBook Pro, the one I had been seeing in my dreams for so long. He texted me to let me know I need to bring over the $600 cash I had been saving up because he had a computer for me. I rush down the street and giggle and clap and do a little dance and hug the box. I had over my down payment and rip the tape off the box, then the next box then there it is...the official black box! I again giggle and almost pass out from excitement. I slowly open the box (life was moving in slow motion at this point and the score from Chariots of Fire was playing in my head...weird I know). There it was smelling like one of my favorite smells, scotch tape, and blinging like a pair of 27s on an Oldsmobile in the ghetto. Ahh, it was amazing. To top it off my neighbor informs me that I only owe him 500 more dollars making this toy WAY cheaper than I could ever get it legally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for all these years I've been longing to become apart of the Cult of Mac and now I have drank the Apple Kool Aid and it is refreshing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6548031077289508143?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6548031077289508143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6548031077289508143' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6548031077289508143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6548031077289508143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#6548031077289508143' title='iKoolAid'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RieRPS9tuLI/AAAAAAAAAA8/OMaeKIashF8/s72-c/cult.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-2601365836754722406</id><published>2007-04-02T22:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T02:01:47.271-04:00</updated><title type='text'>MasterCard Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHDMVG5xeI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sNC1NkEGIK0/s1600-h/edys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049031273850979810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHDMVG5xeI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sNC1NkEGIK0/s320/edys.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Chocolate craving at 11pm on a Monday night = $3.47&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHB3lG5xcI/AAAAAAAAAAc/6Y5mosiPhaY/s1600-h/mymacbook2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049029817857066434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 184px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" height="200" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHB3lG5xcI/AAAAAAAAAAc/6Y5mosiPhaY/s320/mymacbook2.jpg" width="184" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pretty new Mac Book Pro = $2,499&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHCBlG5xdI/AAAAAAAAAAk/4oNqiynCboE/s1600-h/harness.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049029989655758290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px" height="163" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHCBlG5xdI/AAAAAAAAAAk/4oNqiynCboE/s320/harness.bmp" width="219" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Climbing gear = $703&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;______________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My mom singing "Cuz I ain't no Harlem black girl" at the dinner table, instead of the actual words "But I ain't no holla back girl." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;PRICELESS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-2601365836754722406?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/2601365836754722406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=2601365836754722406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2601365836754722406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/2601365836754722406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#2601365836754722406' title='MasterCard Life'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RhHDMVG5xeI/AAAAAAAAAAs/sNC1NkEGIK0/s72-c/edys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-8679784233799166536</id><published>2007-03-28T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T21:46:08.918-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A day in the life of me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's been a few days since my last post, and sadly enough nothing that interesting has happened nor has any profound thought come to me. So for those of you with a stalkerish side to them, here is what went down today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1. Woke up this morning and had my last thing of instant oatmeal (exciting yet panic struck in b/c I had no more food)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;2. Went to the gym to do some rock climbing where the following occurred:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     - I tied my thumb into a knot. After that situation was taken care of I went to walk over to get my belay device, but I forgot I was anchored into the ground. After I took out my anchor I tied in to do a climb. It was a tough climb that left me with blisters on my fingers, then busted and bleeding blisters b/c I don't know when to stop.&lt;br /&gt;3. Found some bandages for my new wounds. I now look like Micheal Jackson with white tape around my fingers.&lt;br /&gt;4. Came home to eat my last can of tuna for lunch (panic sets in b/c now I really have no food left and no money to buy some)&lt;br /&gt;5. Went to my karate class where my sensei told me that I'm really good at karate, which means I can probably kick your booty&lt;br /&gt;6. I was very tired from my day of physical activities. I decided to skip my night class.&lt;br /&gt;7. On my way home my gas light came on. My thought: "crap food less, gas less and moneyless."&lt;br /&gt;8. Pull out the credit card and start shopping. Buy now, pay later. I hate using my credit card but this was an emergency.&lt;br /&gt;9. After charging over $150 in food and gas I came home and ate myself a real meal and even had leftovers after that.&lt;br /&gt;10. Veg all night and pretend I don't have a ton of work to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoyed my boring day. I know I did. I'm now a little stronger, a little more beat up and a lot less hungry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-8679784233799166536?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/8679784233799166536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=8679784233799166536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8679784233799166536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/8679784233799166536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#8679784233799166536' title='A day in the life of me'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-7154204106677387241</id><published>2007-03-26T09:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T10:30:43.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oatmeal and Tuna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RgfYgxeGJgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/o-2UgIPCeDg/s1600-h/instant-oatmeal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046239965038913026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="185" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RgfYgxeGJgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/o-2UgIPCeDg/s320/instant-oatmeal.jpg" width="266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The past few days, well weeks actually, I've been extremely busy with the responsibilities of a graduating college student. Classes, studio time, meetings and projects have taken over my life. The spare time I do have at home I use to either catch up on lost sleep, catch up with my roommates or research more jobs to apply to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Why do I tell you all of this? I don't do it for your sake; I do it for my own. I have to make some sort of reasoning that explains why I haven't been to the grocery store since February 16th and have eaten oatmeal or tuna for almost every meal for the past 3 weeks. As you can imagine I'm quite sick of these two forms of food. Now, I am exaggerating quite a bit. Tuna and oatmeal aren't the only foods I've had for 3 weeks. Except for the occurrence last week when I bribed a friend to buy me a hamburger and the bags of popcorn I have but only eat on tough days, I have been receiving my fare share of protein and fiber. The funny thing is that I don't even like oatmeal that much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;As I sit here, avoiding a design project that is overdue and grudgingly eating a bowl of oatmeal, I can't help but think about my script who's main character is called Oatmeal by her younger sister because of her inability to afford any other form of food. Now I love the story but my most recent experiences with this food have made me feel sorry for my fiction character and want to change the story completely. I know this is irrational and I probably won't go through with rewriting the whole thing, but I now have a new respect for the characters I've created...or maybe I'm just going crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-7154204106677387241?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/7154204106677387241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=7154204106677387241' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/7154204106677387241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/7154204106677387241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#7154204106677387241' title='Oatmeal and Tuna'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nDSfGvzg-w/RgfYgxeGJgI/AAAAAAAAAAU/o-2UgIPCeDg/s72-c/instant-oatmeal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3833270071339901326</id><published>2007-03-23T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T00:19:08.255-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Paris, Je T'aime</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/2012359086.01._AA240_SCLZZZZZZZ_V66383660_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/2012359086.01._AA240_SCLZZZZZZZ_V66383660_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Paris, je t'aime is about the plurality of cinema in one mythic location: Paris, the City of Love. Twenty filmmakers will bring their own personal touch, underlining the wide variety of styles, genres, encounters and the various atmospheres and lifestyles that prevail in the neighborhoods of Paris. Each director has been given five minutes of freedom, and we, as producers, carry the responsibility of weaving a single narrative unit out of those twenty moments. The 20 films will not appear in the order from one to twenty, but rather, in a pertinent narrative order, initially unknown to the audience...Considering the common theme of Paris and Love, the fusion between the films and the transitions, the fast pace of a fluid and complete storytelling, Paris, je t'aime will not be just another "anthology" picture. It will be a unique collective feature film that will constitute a two-hour cinematographic spectacle whose original structure will make for a dramatically different experience for its global audience (IMDb).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are two reasons I'm excited about Paris, je t'aime. First of all the cast. This film is packed full of well known actors from here in the US and Europe. Lets not forgot that two of the stars are Elisha Wood and Emily Mortimer, two talents that never let me down and are stars of several of my favorite movies such as Everything's Illuminated, Green Street Hooligans, and Dear Frankie. Secondly, the mere fact that this is a conglomeration of 20 directors and their films! It's 20 short films with totally different views on the same subject, love. I believe this is going to throw our mainstream Hollywood for a loop. This is different and gutsy. Paris, je t'aime has already released over in Europe and did quite an impressive job at the box office, but that is Europe. This movie is only going to be released in certain theatres so I'm hoping a Charlotte theater will be lucky enough to get it. We'll see how Americans react to this sort of film. Me being a fan of foreign films already find myself liking it. Lets hope I won't be let down.&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/6076981893589319329-3833270071339901326?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3833270071339901326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3833270071339901326' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3833270071339901326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3833270071339901326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#3833270071339901326' title='Paris, Je T&apos;aime'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-6929926124307773688</id><published>2007-03-22T19:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T22:30:59.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Dead and Hungry</title><content type='html'>I'm beginning to realize that I need sleep. I know, not a very profound statement. But 4 years ago I would laugh at the thought of sleep. Who needed it? I could go to bed at 5am and wake up in time for breakfast before an 8am class with energy enough to spare for the gym later that afternoon. Today is quite another story.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I couldn't resist watching a movie then staying up a little longer to read up on it's horrible cast. I made it to bed on time to get five hours of sleep. This morning and through the rest of the day my mind wasn't functioning properly and my eyes closed on their own as I sat in the studio.  I couldn't say a full sentence without mixing up my words and my body ached from what I now consider a lack of sleep the past few nights.&lt;br /&gt;This lack of sleep led way to interesting events once I finished my day of classes. My roommate needed me to pick her up from work at 8pm. In my delirium I walked out the door and got in my car to drive to campus. Halfway there I realized I had no shoes on. I slowed the car down and thought to myself "I need shoes...I should turn back" but I was already halfway there and I got distracted by the techno rock playing over my radio. Emma (the roomie) jumps in my car and we have a quick dialogue about how hungry we are, yet how broke. We count up our money and we come up with $1.79 and a coupon for a free frosty between the two of us. This would not suffice. We brainstormed our options...no boyfriends (dang), no food at the house (dagum), our neighbor brought us food last night (dang it)...RYAN AND JUSTIN, they have meal plans.&lt;br /&gt;I turn my car around in the nearest parking lot and we head over to the duplex, knock on the door and deliver a sweet smile. They look at Emma, then me (still with no shoes on looking like a hobo) and reply "Umm, hey?"&lt;br /&gt;Us: You want to buy us dinner?&lt;br /&gt;Them: Are you seriously mooching off of us?&lt;br /&gt;Us: If you want to call it that, then yes!&lt;br /&gt;The greedy little boys didn't want to share their meal plans but were quick to offer some moldy baked beans in their fridge that they stole from a sorority house around a month ago. This was unacceptable, we needed real food and they had money. We distracted them with my new car and locked them out of their own house...GAME ON!&lt;br /&gt;They began to whine like little girls so we turned the TV up. The third roommate, Andy, came downstairs and let them in, that's when the negotiations began for 2 Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers and a medium fry. We won the argument and walked away without owing a thing. Yes, we're that good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although my age in showing with the growing inability to stay up long hours and sleep less, I'm growing smarter and wiser when it comes to getting what I want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-6929926124307773688?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/6929926124307773688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=6929926124307773688' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6929926124307773688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/6929926124307773688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#6929926124307773688' title='Brain Dead and Hungry'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076981893589319329.post-3153741634625695170</id><published>2007-03-20T17:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T18:46:40.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring has Sprung</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.dianasdesserts.com/news/news2004-04/Tulip_with_Black_Background.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="160" alt="" src="http://www.dianasdesserts.com/news/news2004-04/Tulip_with_Black_Background.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I feel as though &lt;/span&gt;today is the perfect day to enter into the world of bloggers, considering it is the first day of Spring. It is time for new life and a new form of expression. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Today was the perfect day to start off this new season. The air was a perfect 72 degrees, the sun was out, birds chirping and a slight breeze. There is always something so wonderful about this time of year. The earth gains its color back and things seem to come to life. After my classes I contemplated taking my flip-flops off, walking over to my spot in the Court of Carolinas and taking a nap in the grass (a daily habit for me on campus). But my large coffee and empty stomach forced me to rush home for food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Although I love Springtime, I do have my two complaints. To begin, Bradford Pear trees. These beautiful trees are the first to bloom with their white flowers. They seem pleasant and admirable until you get out of your car or building, then their true character hits your senses. I can't seem to fathom how a flower can smell so terrible. I walk through a city park every morning to get to class and the path I walk is beautiful yet lined with these rank trees. It isn't a desired smell early in the morning. I'm forced to pick up my lazy stroll and breath through my mouth until I reach my destination. Which leads me to my last complaint about my favorite time of year...pollen. I'm somewhat of a dork when it comes to allergies. I seem to find something new every year that I'm allergic to. Pollen, though, has always been a trouble spot for me. March and April the whole world is dusted with this yellowness. You can't get away from it. Thus today started my two months of sneezing and watering eyes. It's wonderful to have people flee from you for fear you carry a contagious virus, lets not forget to mention how attractive it is to have a crusty nose...gross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;Even though Spring brings it's fair share of troubles, the beauty it brings easily overrides all those annoyances. Enjoy the season. Take the time to read a book in the grass or cut down a Bradford Pear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://k43.pbase.com/o4/27/56927/1/66103345.1JjZ3M3f.IMG_4374copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6076981893589319329-3153741634625695170?l=mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/feeds/3153741634625695170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6076981893589319329&amp;postID=3153741634625695170' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3153741634625695170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6076981893589319329/posts/default/3153741634625695170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mymindsempiricism.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#3153741634625695170' title='Spring has Sprung'/><author><name>Krystal Dawn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05656320316098140726</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k109/kdliner/66103345.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
