<?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-19193359</id><updated>2011-10-24T09:05:19.477-07:00</updated><category term='cooking'/><category term='New Years'/><category term='Pursuit of Happyness'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='experiences'/><title type='text'>Horse of a Different Color</title><subtitle type='html'>I intend to pursue a career as an educator. I am currently attending East Texas Baptist University with a major in Math Education and a minor in Spanish.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-2087063185018240874</id><published>2008-11-25T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:19:47.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Take my hand &lt;br /&gt;And tell me everything you wish to say&lt;br /&gt;Your words are safe in my heart&lt;br /&gt;I will hold the key &lt;br /&gt;And lock it safe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could let my words &lt;br /&gt;Stream out of my lips&lt;br /&gt;And tell you how I feel&lt;br /&gt;I miss you as much as you miss me&lt;br /&gt;And if you only knew &lt;br /&gt;If I could only forget about the past&lt;br /&gt;And live life like it were my last&lt;br /&gt;And love you like I’ve never been hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is still a small child&lt;br /&gt;Timid yet excited&lt;br /&gt;God is there&lt;br /&gt;God is here&lt;br /&gt;God will work it out&lt;br /&gt;He will find us a perfect match&lt;br /&gt;Even if it’s not who we expect&lt;br /&gt;Father knows best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you scare me&lt;br /&gt;I’ve got to beware of it&lt;br /&gt;The things you say are what I look for&lt;br /&gt;You overwhelm me&lt;br /&gt;And if you asked &lt;br /&gt;I probably would have to say yes&lt;br /&gt;Because I couldn’t pass you up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to smile into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And look into the future with you&lt;br /&gt;As we walk the streets of dirt &lt;br /&gt;Gracefully touched by toes &lt;br /&gt;Of laboring orphans and weary travelers like ourselves&lt;br /&gt;Only to achieve a purpose together as one&lt;br /&gt;To please a higher authority&lt;br /&gt;And spread the love we share and embrace&lt;br /&gt;Close to the hearts that our Love has given us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-2087063185018240874?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/2087063185018240874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=2087063185018240874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/2087063185018240874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/2087063185018240874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2008/11/take-my-hand-and-tell-me-everything-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-684124881198028235</id><published>2008-03-17T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T16:24:40.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Latest Poems</title><content type='html'>Hopes and visions&lt;br /&gt;Written in invisible ink&lt;br /&gt;Only to be pitched&lt;br /&gt;Into the scorching flames&lt;br /&gt;Of our hopelessness&lt;br /&gt;An avoidance of the truth&lt;br /&gt;Knowing we could both do better&lt;br /&gt;Together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fluff&lt;br /&gt;Mindless clatter and clanging&lt;br /&gt;Dialog racing&lt;br /&gt;Through the vains&lt;br /&gt;of the doll&lt;br /&gt;We freely poke with pins and needles&lt;br /&gt;It's going nowhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come one, come all&lt;br /&gt;The mic is on and ready to go&lt;br /&gt;Jump on the stool&lt;br /&gt;I have set on the stage&lt;br /&gt;If jokes are your specialty&lt;br /&gt;I've heard them all&lt;br /&gt;Don't come ill prepared&lt;br /&gt;Or try to fool me&lt;br /&gt;It'll take much more to win me over&lt;br /&gt;With sly whit &lt;br /&gt;Or catty yet eager glances&lt;br /&gt;And forward movements&lt;br /&gt;This isn't insanity, dear&lt;br /&gt;My heart is just waiting&lt;br /&gt;For something worthwhile to love&lt;br /&gt;Gee, I wish you know how worthwhile you could be&lt;br /&gt;If only you let me kow how you feel&lt;br /&gt;Spit it out, boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-684124881198028235?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/684124881198028235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=684124881198028235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/684124881198028235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/684124881198028235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2008/03/latest-poems.html' title='Latest Poems'/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-6416700517576827735</id><published>2008-02-06T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T14:14:49.391-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Scrambled alphabets and symbols&lt;br /&gt;Frigidaire&lt;br /&gt;Empty thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Trains of visions&lt;br /&gt;Inadequacy&lt;br /&gt;The stumbling motion&lt;br /&gt;Wishes of dreams&lt;br /&gt;Truth creeping&lt;br /&gt;Like a sleuth&lt;br /&gt;Impervious&lt;br /&gt;Atrocity&lt;br /&gt;Extremity&lt;br /&gt;Lacking magma&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-6416700517576827735?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/6416700517576827735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=6416700517576827735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/6416700517576827735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/6416700517576827735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2008/02/scrambled-alphabets-and-symbols.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-5065390893206306331</id><published>2008-01-12T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:22:18.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Mind's Dance</title><content type='html'>Sitting here on the side&lt;br /&gt;Of the dance floor&lt;br /&gt;Looking at the people&lt;br /&gt;Holding hands&lt;br /&gt;Wishing you were here&lt;br /&gt;To shuffle our feet in syncopated motion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I must be crazy&lt;br /&gt;To still be crazy about you&lt;br /&gt;I miss the times we had&lt;br /&gt;The times I would lay in bed&lt;br /&gt;Half asleep&lt;br /&gt;Talking to you for hours&lt;br /&gt;About nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with my friends &lt;br /&gt;Thinking I could unwind&lt;br /&gt;Relax for a change&lt;br /&gt;Who was I kidding?&lt;br /&gt;I’m not satisfied&lt;br /&gt;Until I see your smiling face&lt;br /&gt;Staring at me in the center&lt;br /&gt;Of the platform of the church&lt;br /&gt;As I walk down the isle&lt;br /&gt;Coated with rose petals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it too much to ask&lt;br /&gt;To give us a chance&lt;br /&gt;Is it too much to be&lt;br /&gt;To be with just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m not new&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I have something&lt;br /&gt;You just don’t know about it yet&lt;br /&gt;Are you willing to find &lt;br /&gt;What no one else finds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hide for a reason&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want everyone knowing&lt;br /&gt;Who I am is something special&lt;br /&gt;You can’t trust people with the real you&lt;br /&gt;Because anyone who has your trust&lt;br /&gt;Can just as easily betray it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked God to take&lt;br /&gt;All the emotions&lt;br /&gt;That were linked to you&lt;br /&gt;If you weren’t worth my time&lt;br /&gt;But my heart is still yours&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why&lt;br /&gt;He hasn’t helped me move on&lt;br /&gt;Do I just need to wait longer&lt;br /&gt;Or does he know we can work things out?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-5065390893206306331?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/5065390893206306331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=5065390893206306331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5065390893206306331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5065390893206306331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-minds-dance.html' title='My Mind&apos;s Dance'/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-2577744226749242587</id><published>2007-12-31T22:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T01:14:33.714-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Years'/><title type='text'>Cheers to new beginnings...</title><content type='html'>Looking back...   &lt;br /&gt;   1. See everything, good or bad, as an opportunity that God has placed in my life for &lt;br /&gt;      a reason&lt;br /&gt;   2. Completely (as in the words and accompaniment) write 5 songs&lt;br /&gt;   3. Learn to love&lt;br /&gt;   4. Learn to say no and yes (make better decisions)&lt;br /&gt;   5. Spiritually grow more than I could ever imagine&lt;br /&gt;   6. Stay focused&lt;br /&gt;   7. Enjoy life no matter what the occasion&lt;br /&gt;   8. Sing with joy&lt;br /&gt;   9. Save my money more often than I spend it!&lt;br /&gt;  10. Find a boyfriend (had to put a little humor in my list!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. So I didn't meet all the expectations set for/by myself for this past year, but I certainly do not regret what I have been through and what 2007 represents to me. I have tried my hardest to see everything as an opportunity. God has placed everything in my life because he loves me so much that he's willing to sacrifice everything to see me grow as an individual. 2007 has most definitely had its ups and downs...more downs than ups I might add, but I have learned to love some difficult people. I have been tested. And because of this my growth has exceeded far more than I could have imagined. I'm still learning to enjoy life despite the lack of surfaced happiness, but that is a progressive learning thing. Happiness is so much more than smiling every morning as you wake up and putting your beautiful hello face on when those people that pass you by like clockwork. It is so much more than thanking your parents as you open up a nice Christmas gift or realize a friend will not take no for an answer when they say they are paying for your meal at the restaurant. It's enjoying everything that life has in store, knowing that the God who &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;hand crafted&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; will love you no matter what dumb decisions you make, or how many times you cry out to him asking for selfish wishes to come true. I made a number of dumb decisions this year some of which still seem to make it so much easier to press that snooze button every morning and so much harder to shuffle to the bathroom to start my days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-2577744226749242587?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/2577744226749242587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=2577744226749242587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/2577744226749242587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/2577744226749242587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-beginnings.html' title='Cheers to new beginnings...'/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-5069654451072349432</id><published>2007-11-22T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T14:07:50.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Break free of instability&lt;br /&gt;Just breathe…&lt;br /&gt;Stand on your own two feet.&lt;br /&gt;I believe in you&lt;br /&gt;You believe in me&lt;br /&gt;But do you believe in yourself&lt;br /&gt;That’s all that matters&lt;br /&gt;Forget what everyone says&lt;br /&gt;Forget how everyone thinks&lt;br /&gt;Just breathe…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-5069654451072349432?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/5069654451072349432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=5069654451072349432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5069654451072349432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5069654451072349432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/11/break-free-of-instability-just-breathe.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-150611100847346183</id><published>2007-11-22T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T13:49:36.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Only fools fall in love&lt;br /&gt;Neither of us were willing to jump&lt;br /&gt;You pushed me over the edge&lt;br /&gt;And now I’m stuck in this pit&lt;br /&gt;With no way out&lt;br /&gt;You are a jerk&lt;br /&gt;And I’m still smitten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-150611100847346183?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/150611100847346183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=150611100847346183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/150611100847346183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/150611100847346183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/11/only-fools-fall-in-love-neither-of-us.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-8336328755326809387</id><published>2007-11-07T13:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T13:48:41.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Tribute to Passion Lost</title><content type='html'>Clouds &lt;br /&gt;Clothed in rainbows of delicacy &lt;br /&gt;The envious sky&lt;br /&gt;Painted with hues of green&lt;br /&gt;The love we share&lt;br /&gt;Will be too beautiful &lt;br /&gt;For the sun to shine on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grass &lt;br /&gt;Grazing our bouncing toes&lt;br /&gt;Grows red with passion&lt;br /&gt;The dirt separates from our feet&lt;br /&gt;We are walking on air and free from sin&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who follows in our footsteps&lt;br /&gt;Will know how strong we are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trunks of trees &lt;br /&gt;Textured with tints of violet&lt;br /&gt;Branching golden leaves &lt;br /&gt;Staring at the cherubic sky&lt;br /&gt;Our love is ever growing royalty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desires &lt;br /&gt;A hopeless obsession?&lt;br /&gt;The ivy &lt;br /&gt;Taking over&lt;br /&gt;The beautiful house &lt;br /&gt;We have built&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-8336328755326809387?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/8336328755326809387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=8336328755326809387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/8336328755326809387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/8336328755326809387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-tribute-to-passion-lost.html' title='My Tribute to Passion Lost'/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-4389682712204829830</id><published>2007-09-07T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T13:21:16.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beginner's Luck, by Lindsay Hollowell</title><content type='html'>I’m sorry I have been so distant  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe I’m the one who’s missing it&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s just that I’ve never done this before&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This human tug-of-war&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One side tells me that I’m in control&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The other tells me just to let go&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But it seems like you’ve already won&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At this game that’s not much fun&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No beginner’s luck&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Frankly, I suck&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I told myself this couldn’t happen&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m sure the heavens are laughin’&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We try to so hard to make it work&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But it seems like all we do is jerk&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The universe&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One orbit at a time&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Is it really worth it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We haven’t crossed any lines yet,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But we sure have walked on some&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’re like drunkards&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Trying to pass a test&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Maybe it’s pointless.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want a purple sky&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want the oceans tide&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want to hear the birds sing&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want all that God's crafted for me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But where do you fall in this masterpiece?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just be patient with me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can find time.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Will you?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t want it to be this way&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But that’s all I have to say.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You and me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Standing still&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the depths of our thoughts&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Clueless.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-4389682712204829830?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/4389682712204829830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=4389682712204829830' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/4389682712204829830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/4389682712204829830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/09/beginners-luck-by-lindsay-hollowell.html' title='Beginner&apos;s Luck, by Lindsay Hollowell'/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-3355174112923352138</id><published>2007-06-16T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T19:28:41.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion of a Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You know? I used to feel all sorts of things. I used to feel love, compassion, hatred, fear, jealousy, pity, but all of that drifted away some time ago. I don’t know when or why; there’s probably a reason somewhere out there, but I haven’t figured it out yet. I think it was when I moved off to college, or shortly before that momentous time. A lot of things happen between graduation and moving off. A whole lot happens when you actually watch your parent(s) and sibling(s) coast off into the old world you left behind for education. You meet new people; you find friends…friends you wouldn’t expect to become friends with in high school. You have a new life completely. Things change. You grow. It’s expected, but you have no clue on how much until you look back at it all. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;College is a busy world. It’s a world between adolescence and the real “real world”. Not quite as busy as it will get, but not as wasteful as high school. You have homework that the professors “fail to mention” (Note to self: Check your syllabus!), tests that are your only chance to pass the class, and resident assistants who check to see if your room is spotless on a weekly basis. Although, those aren’t entirely all that bad. That’s only the beginning. Living with your friends is the best and worst idea, especially in a freshman girls’ dormitory. It seems as if drama follows everyone. If you’re not the cause or the victim, have no doubt that you will be in the middle! And when you need to study the most, they want to go out for ice cream. It’s so hard to stand your ground when chocolate’s involved. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Despite all of that, you have to find out what you believe is truth. You make your decisions. You do what you want on a Friday night, or Sunday morning. You do what you want with all of your time. No one wakes you up in the morning anymore, unless you have a controlling roommate. You choose your friends, enemies, and boyfriends. Your friends can’t do it for you, although sometimes they are the incentive or hindrance to your decision. You choose whether or not you want the Wal-Mart brand or Pillsbury; Colgate or Crest; Suave or Frizz Ease. Your life is your life. You have 100% responsibility for you; no one else. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think this scared me when I came to this “AHA” moment. I was scared of making a dumb mistake of myself. So I backed off. Quit trying, and pretended for a school year. I acted how I thought everyone wanted me to act throwing the real me in every once in a while of course, but mainly trying to show myself that it’s easy to take the easy way out. Living the life everyone wants me to live. Living the easy way was the hardest thing I have ever done though. I lost myself in fakeness. I stopped writing songs. I stopped being brutally honest…which I was fairly good at before moving to college. I stopped telling people what I thought. I didn’t want to be the cause of conflict. I fear conflict. So if I didn’t like something, I didn’t say a word. If I liked something, I didn’t say a word. Only when I felt like everyone felt the same way did I say something. That was the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. I thought I had learned that my fears were to be stomped on, not nurtured. But I was wrong. I continued to keep to myself, like I have most of my life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Authentic. Unstoppable. Determined. Successful. Reliable. These are the words that I want to describe me. I want a chance in changing the face of the earth. No matter how much it energy it takes of me. I have a story, and I want to share it. I’m tired of being the &lt;s style=""&gt;man&lt;/s&gt; woman behind the curtain. I want to join the crusade in living with all there is of my being. I want to return to who I abandoned about a year ago. A music-loving imaginative artist who loves Christ and follows his every command because he is her creator and provider…the lover of her soul.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-3355174112923352138?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/3355174112923352138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=3355174112923352138' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/3355174112923352138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/3355174112923352138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/06/passion-of-life.html' title='Passion of a Life'/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-225400472425747471</id><published>2007-01-28T00:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:20:51.453-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>Live and Learn! And have some fun along the way!</title><content type='html'>These past 3 days were definitely one experience after another.  One of my friends has a family that she knew in the past that moved to Marshall. They had a funeral to go to and they had asked her to house-sit while they were gone. They also mentioned that a couple of her friends could stay as well. She had invited me and my roommate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The first night (Wednesday) &lt;/span&gt;we just kind of enjoyed each other's company while watching movies and just getting away from the dorms (which is nice!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkDW_Um9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/Rx4njxqMhxc/s1600-h/I3010036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkDW_Um9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/Rx4njxqMhxc/s320/I3010036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025001293112187858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The second night (Thursday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;) &lt;/span&gt;we had planned on making a wonderful home cooked meal. And somehow that responsibility was put on me...I just had to blurt out the fact that I knew how to make lasagna from scratch...but it was very interesting. I had never done it myself, but i had seen my mom do it a couple of times. So we went to Wal-Mart while my roommate, Sarah, had to go to work. We had timed it very perfectly because the lasagna was supposed to be in the oven for an hour and Sarah was supposed to come in around 8 PM &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkCm_Um7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/pedLZnbVI4c/s1600-h/I3010034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 294px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkCm_Um7I/AAAAAAAAAAM/pedLZnbVI4c/s320/I3010034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025001280227285938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and it was just amazing how the timing worked out. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkC2_Um8I/AAAAAAAAAAU/KsD8T0IPXqs/s1600-h/I3010035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 175px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkC2_Um8I/AAAAAAAAAAU/KsD8T0IPXqs/s320/I3010035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025001284522253250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, we were preparing food like any normal people would. I was browning the meat while Sadie was doing some dishes. Then we alternated and I layered the lasagna and she made some queso to hold us over until the lasagna was ready. I was getting everything cleaned up and Sadie had asked if the lasagna was ready to go into the oven. And I had responded, quite certain that it was in deed ready to be put in the oven. We had popped in a movie and laid out some chips and dip to keep us occupied while our dinner was cooking in the kitchen. Sarah had called Sadie to get directions from her on how to get to the house. Almost immediately after that the timer for the lasagna went off. I went into the kitchen to check everything out. Little did I know that I had forgotten one major little detail before putting it into the oven, I happily opened the oven to realize&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkD2_Um-I/AAAAAAAAAAk/xUpI2LOLQ2A/s1600-h/I3010037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkD2_Um-I/AAAAAAAAAAk/xUpI2LOLQ2A/s320/I3010037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025001301702122466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that my lasagna, the one I had lovingly prepared, the one I paid for 1/3 for, the one that everyone had been waiting to eat, was burnt to a crisp!!!!....well, just the top layer....the mozzarella part. I called Sadie into the kitchen not knowledgeable of what to do. We figured the best way to solve the problem is to scrape that layer off and cover it up again with cheese. Sarah will never notice! She didn't of course until Sadie couldn't keep it in any longer. ........Moral of the story: DON'T forget to wrap FOIL over your lasagna pan before putting it into the oven!....otherwise, you will have some tears and heartache when you open the stove!   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;AND&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk62_UnBI/AAAAAAAAAA8/El5HBlEE-08/s1600-h/I3010040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 184px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk62_UnBI/AAAAAAAAAA8/El5HBlEE-08/s320/I3010040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025002246594927634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;don't try to cover up your mistakes...it's not worth it...just fess up you may look like a bigger dork trying to hide it than just going out and telling it like it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;P.S. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkEG_Um_I/AAAAAAAAAAs/zp2ag1QFZ8s/s1600-h/I3010038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 154px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkEG_Um_I/AAAAAAAAAAs/zp2ag1QFZ8s/s320/I3010038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025001305997089778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It ended up tasting a lot better than&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk6G_UnAI/AAAAAAAAAA0/E8kGZy1rdw4/s1600-h/I3010039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 199px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk6G_UnAI/AAAAAAAAAA0/E8kGZy1rdw4/s320/I3010039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025002233710025730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we had expected!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The third night,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; (Friday) &lt;/span&gt;we went down memory lane and watched part of the Spice World movie...we were planning on watching Clueless and something else...i can't remember. Oh, yeah, and our friend, Hannah ended up staying with us that night as well. Sarah was doing a Disciple Now this weekend so she wasn't going to be able be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Today (Saturday)&lt;/span&gt; we enjoyed some some pancakes, but didn't start looking for the syrup until after I had started cooking some. So Hannah and Sadie went to Kroger in their PJ's (might I add that we woke up around 11 and didn't get to eating breakfast until 12) then after we ate some pancakes Sadie wanted Deviled eggs so we went back to Kroger in our PJ's and bought some eggs. When we first walked in there was this guy that worked there and was really awkward...but anyways...we made deviled eggs and had a sandwich for lunch. (Pictured: Orange cat is Cowboy and Grey cat is Mittens)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk72_UnEI/AAAAAAAAABU/wB1v-GhE-DM/s1600-h/I3010043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 155px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk72_UnEI/AAAAAAAAABU/wB1v-GhE-DM/s320/I3010043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025002263774796866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk7m_UnDI/AAAAAAAAABM/OTqrd5Mf2lI/s1600-h/I3010042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 136px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk7m_UnDI/AAAAAAAAABM/OTqrd5Mf2lI/s320/I3010042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025002259479829554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk7G_UnCI/AAAAAAAAABE/C80hL3RDxiI/s1600-h/I3010041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 151px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbxk7G_UnCI/AAAAAAAAABE/C80hL3RDxiI/s320/I3010041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025002250889894946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Needless to say, we had an amazingly interesting weekend. Despite burning the lasagna and having awkward moments with this weird guy in our pajamas in Kroger, I had a marvelous weekend!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-225400472425747471?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/225400472425747471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=225400472425747471' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/225400472425747471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/225400472425747471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/01/live-and-learn-and-have-some-fun-along.html' title='Live and Learn! And have some fun along the way!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/RbxkDW_Um9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/Rx4njxqMhxc/s72-c/I3010036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-5501181731995741806</id><published>2007-01-21T22:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T20:59:32.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This weekend!</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm going to try to blog a little more often, even though I have lots of reading to do that I don't really feel like reading about and an essay due on Friday that I haven't started on. And a speech due on Tuesday that I haven't really decided on what to talk about, but oh well, that's what college life is all about right? Putting things off until that last minute, it gets you ready for the future craziness!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went home  this weekend. The ride there and back was more interesting that the actual weekend. Brittany Compton rode with me. She's such an interesting and wonderful person. (interesting in the awesome kind of way!) Not only is she a marvelous friend, but she's so smart!&lt;br /&gt;We were just about to put all of my things in the car and Brittany spotted my birthday cake in my room (my birthday was last Sunday for everyone who wanted to know)...and so she cut us both a piece for on the way down to Lufkin. Then we decided that it would be the smartest thing to grab some Chic-Fil-A before going off to Lufkin. So we did. So we ate while I was driving and she was getting situated in my car. Shortly after she had finished her meal, she decided to eat her half of the piece of cake, and left the other half on the dashboard so I could eat it when I stopped in Lufkin or something. When we got into Mt. Enterprise and had to get onto 259, I had to make a turn. When I made that turn, the birthday cake decided to slide off of the dashboard. Brittany's refluxes, caught in the moment, threw her foot up onto the dashboard to catch it, but that birthday cake was too determined to get to the floor, her foot was just one more obsticle that it had to take. We had to stop at the nearest Exxon station to raid their bathroom and take their toilet paper because we couldn't find anything in my car. We got back into the car and cleaned everything up and headed back to Lufkin. We finally got into Lufkin and I dropped Brittany off at her house. I got interested in a game show called "1 vs. 100" which is similar to "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" but you are against a group of 100 people called a mob. Sometimes people groups...like the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders or a group of accountants or movie stars are in the group of 100, but it just depends on the episode i guess. Then Monk came on and I had to watch that too. After that show came on I returned home.&lt;br /&gt;I got to sleep in on Saturday, which was very nice considering I didn't get to do much of it last weekend, because I was leading a Disciple Now. I joined my mom on the way to pick up Jaime from my dad's house. She got to go to the Build-A-Bear Workshop where she got a Husky dog and got to get a bunch of cute accessories for her new little inanimate friend.&lt;br /&gt;Today, I woke up really late and didn't get to go to church, and was planning on going to Sunday School but got interested in homework of all things and lost track of time...weird I know! We got home safely...obviously, otherwise, I wouldn't be typing right now! lol...So, here I am...now...supposed to be doing my homework and reading for english and music theory 2...but i'm not...I'm telling you about this weekend! Horrible...i know! Ok...I'm going ..................now...I wish i had more interesting things to write about so I just couldn't wait to write to you about so I wouldn't have to do my homework, but right now...not much is going through my head except how much i didn't practice this week and how much i should have done this weekend, and didn't....grrr...why does this always happen to me!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-5501181731995741806?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/5501181731995741806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=5501181731995741806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5501181731995741806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5501181731995741806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-weekend.html' title='This weekend!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-248299605614006391</id><published>2007-01-15T22:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:20:56.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'>D-Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz122_UnJI/AAAAAAAAACk/Hpeaf3rRMlE/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz122_UnJI/AAAAAAAAACk/Hpeaf3rRMlE/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025161607061478546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This weekend I led my first Disciple Now. I knew before hand that it would be different leading one than actually being the student listening to what the leader had to say the whole weekend. But nonetheless  it was great. I hadn't had much time to prepare before hand because I started school the week before the event. I had the 6th &amp; 7th grade girls. Elizabeth and I co-led it. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3BW_UnKI/AAAAAAAAACs/PDo0eBZhwHU/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3BW_UnKI/AAAAAAAAACs/PDo0eBZhwHU/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025162886961732770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6Pm_UnWI/AAAAAAAAAEM/t9gseRAY_KE/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6Pm_UnWI/AAAAAAAAAEM/t9gseRAY_KE/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025166430309752162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz432_UnQI/AAAAAAAAADc/ugQTGb8wunY/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz432_UnQI/AAAAAAAAADc/ugQTGb8wunY/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025164922776231170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;......I'll elaborate later...i only got approx. 6 hrs. of sleep all weekend...i'm really tired...so i'm gunna rest for now....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3B2_UnLI/AAAAAAAAAC0/u6R4e-3uz_M/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3B2_UnLI/AAAAAAAAAC0/u6R4e-3uz_M/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025162895551667378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3CG_UnMI/AAAAAAAAAC8/ToD2qbkLv7E/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3CG_UnMI/AAAAAAAAAC8/ToD2qbkLv7E/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025162899846634690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6PG_UnVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/un_-eFCtzeI/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6PG_UnVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/un_-eFCtzeI/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025166421719817554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz43W_UnPI/AAAAAAAAADU/zF1mR0KFiRA/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz43W_UnPI/AAAAAAAAADU/zF1mR0KFiRA/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025164914186296562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; seems like its been a lifetime since I've been where they are rightOk, I'm back. I really enjoyed leading the middle schoolers. It now, but they seemed so much smarter than I was. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3Cm_UnNI/AAAAAAAAADE/EANp2ZhlnoA/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3Cm_UnNI/AAAAAAAAADE/EANp2ZhlnoA/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025162908436569298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz44m_UnSI/AAAAAAAAADs/Cp9BVj4SPuI/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz44m_UnSI/AAAAAAAAADs/Cp9BVj4SPuI/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025164935661133090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They listened most of the time, and had trouble staying on task some times. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3DG_UnOI/AAAAAAAAADM/6XYTusOL0Pg/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz3DG_UnOI/AAAAAAAAADM/6XYTusOL0Pg/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025162917026503906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6QW_UnYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bMtsEMTYuOU/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6QW_UnYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bMtsEMTYuOU/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025166443194654082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz44G_UnRI/AAAAAAAAADk/JZXklNkkvVs/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz44G_UnRI/AAAAAAAAADk/JZXklNkkvVs/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025164927071198482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But, they were just so marvelous. I loved them. The first night we were there on of the kids got homesick and came into our room crying and asked if she could call her mom. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz11G_UnFI/AAAAAAAAACE/tkgXIxVz5Fc/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz11G_UnFI/AAAAAAAAACE/tkgXIxVz5Fc/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025161576996707410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6Om_UnUI/AAAAAAAAAD8/FnWwGgPjarc/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6Om_UnUI/AAAAAAAAAD8/FnWwGgPjarc/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025166413129882946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We let her do so thinking that she would be able to calm her down a little. She ended getting sick to her stomach and had to go home anyway. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz12G_UnHI/AAAAAAAAACU/GkETtIUwxLQ/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz12G_UnHI/AAAAAAAAACU/GkETtIUwxLQ/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025161594176576626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I feel that Satan was trying to keep her away from something that would happen and her mother felt the same way so she came back the next morning for the sessions. The next night another girl wasn't feeling well, but she went to church anyway.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6QG_UnXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/H9y31-FQksg/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz6QG_UnXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/H9y31-FQksg/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025166438899686770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz11m_UnGI/AAAAAAAAACM/c6GEr35eCL0/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz11m_UnGI/AAAAAAAAACM/c6GEr35eCL0/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025161585586642018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My co-leader also got sick and went home to recover. But it was a wonderful experience and hope I can do it again either next year or soon!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz442_UnTI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ct4ekz6oSpQ/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz442_UnTI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ct4ekz6oSpQ/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025164939956100402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz12m_UnII/AAAAAAAAACc/JdGWs8IT0SY/s1600-h/Disciple+Now+2007+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 136px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz12m_UnII/AAAAAAAAACc/JdGWs8IT0SY/s200/Disciple+Now+2007+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025161602766511234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-248299605614006391?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/248299605614006391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=248299605614006391' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/248299605614006391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/248299605614006391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/01/d-now.html' title='D-Now'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ui3nEYqzp-A/Rbz122_UnJI/AAAAAAAAACk/Hpeaf3rRMlE/s72-c/Disciple+Now+2007+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-5302832339386341098</id><published>2007-01-15T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T14:12:29.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How repulsive does it have to get&lt;br /&gt;Until we do something about it&lt;br /&gt;Does the God &lt;br /&gt;With the signs and wonders&lt;br /&gt;Have to spell it out for us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are suffering&lt;br /&gt;People are lost&lt;br /&gt;People fight for their lives&lt;br /&gt;What have we done?&lt;br /&gt;Where did we go?&lt;br /&gt;Who did we see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead and wave it off &lt;br /&gt;Like you did your best friend &lt;br /&gt;Down the street.&lt;br /&gt;What will you have to answer?&lt;br /&gt;Will it be the two dollars you saved &lt;br /&gt;Will it be the five bucks you earned&lt;br /&gt;Or will it be the time you spent &lt;br /&gt;Praying for others&lt;br /&gt;Not expecting anything in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will the selfishness end?&lt;br /&gt;When will we wake &lt;br /&gt;from these carcasses &lt;br /&gt;we shuffle to point B?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s not the destination&lt;br /&gt;We were meant to get to&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-5302832339386341098?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/5302832339386341098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=5302832339386341098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5302832339386341098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5302832339386341098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/01/how-repulsive-does-it-have-to-get-until.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Lou</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08343139069193584399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://i170.photobucket.com/albums/u258/rubyslipperslah/80sphotos3.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-5799956385046922925</id><published>2007-01-02T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T20:26:56.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Resolutions</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This time of the year seems to come faster and faster, but only comes once a year. It’s a time where it seems everyone and everything starts on a clean slate. Where the end has come and the new has begun. Where everyone reverently hopes that the new is much better than the old. But doesn’t seem to feel that way about the year before. Why must we get things wrong over and over again? You would think we would get it at least on the third try or something. But enough of my bashing…as it is customary to have a few goals for the year ahead, here are some of mine. (Bare in mind that I am sometimes a little too optimistic, but realistic at the same time, when it comes to these)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;See      everything, good or bad, as an opportunity that God has placed in my life      for a reason&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Completely      (as in the words and accompaniment) write 5 songs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Learn      to love &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Learn      to say no and yes (make better decisions)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Spiritually      grow more than I could ever imagine&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Stay      focused&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Enjoy      life no matter what the occasion&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Sing      with joy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Save      my money more often than I spend it!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Find a      boyfriend (had to put a little humor in my list!) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-5799956385046922925?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/5799956385046922925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=5799956385046922925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5799956385046922925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/5799956385046922925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-year-resolutions.html' title='New Year Resolutions'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-3805757180485512495</id><published>2006-12-22T22:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T23:12:50.871-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pursuit of Happyness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Pursuit of Happyness...</title><content type='html'>Everyone comes into this world wanting more...more money, more talent, more stuff, more time...etc. I just got back from the movie "Pursuit of Happyness" ..Which is a very inspiring movie..but really long! anyway...I've been going through a lot of tough things in the past few ...hmm..well lets just say it's been all this semester. But I'll give you the abridged version seeing as it's 1AM and I'm tired! :) ...Leaving home is a big deal...believe it or not..I didn't want it to effect me, but it did whether I like or not. On from not coming home to a nice cooked meal to having to learn how to manage my money it has been one interesting ride to the next. Not just any ride either it was a winding roller coaster living in a dormitory of freshmen girls is definitely a trip of a lifetime...not always the best trip, but it has it's perks. It's been a tough semester, not going in ahead of the gang like I've almost always been. Just for anyone wondering, music is not an easy ride after taking 6 years off of lessons...especially if it's in piano. I have definitely looked for what I thought made me happy all this semester, but I've been striving to please someone else or a group of somebody elses..depending on the situation. That's where I went wrong all along. There was a point in the movie where they were talking about what Benjamin Franklin was thinking when he included the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pursuit&lt;/span&gt; of happiness. And it really made me think about what I have been pursuing to make me happy. Was it my friends? Was it those random fun times? A phone call that I never recieved? Why was this semester not all that I expected?&lt;br /&gt;Four of my checks bounced yesterday, and last night I was so worried and stressing over how I was going to break it to my mom because not only did those checks bounce but there was a charge as well. So I was in the red further than I would have if they would've just waited one more day. I had already put money in the bank but there was a wait on the check because I didn't deposit with cash. But today, it's crazy that God led me to go see this movie about this poor guy that recently had his wife walk out on him and he still managed to take care of their child and land a job while being homeless in a brokers business. I don't know if this is God's way of saying &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey, you may have it tough now, but just wait, it'll get better. &lt;/span&gt;Let's just hope that I don't go homeless or anything.&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone out there reading this has a very merry Christmas, and as you are opening those nice gifts remember that some people either don't have families, or homes, or presents to spread the cheer. That's why Christ is a gift that can't replace anything, he's the best gift we can give the world these days or any day for that matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-3805757180485512495?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/3805757180485512495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=3805757180485512495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/3805757180485512495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/3805757180485512495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/12/pursuit-of-happyness.html' title='Pursuit of Happyness...'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-116478240153249622</id><published>2006-11-28T00:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T20:29:27.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfinished songs are never fun...but here's another!</title><content type='html'>The water all around is pulling me in;&lt;br /&gt;I need a staff to flee into your arms again.&lt;br /&gt;The enemy is too close for comfort.&lt;br /&gt;Only a miracle can save me now.&lt;br /&gt;You are my only hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God you are the reason why I am here,&lt;br /&gt;And even though trouble is all I see,&lt;br /&gt;Your beauty surrounds me.&lt;br /&gt;You are my joy.&lt;br /&gt;You keep my peace.&lt;br /&gt;You remain my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part the sea&lt;br /&gt;So I can run through.&lt;br /&gt;Part the sea&lt;br /&gt;So I can run to you.&lt;br /&gt;Is there light at the end of this tunnel,&lt;br /&gt;Or am I wandering aimlessly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-116478240153249622?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/116478240153249622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=116478240153249622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/116478240153249622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/116478240153249622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/11/unfinished-songs-are-never-funbut.html' title='Unfinished songs are never fun...but here&apos;s another!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-116036850423590243</id><published>2006-10-08T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T21:35:04.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhat Decent Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010032.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010032.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010031.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010031.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a somewhat decent weekend, despite the drama involved...but we won't get into that right now. Friday we had a wonderful fun girls night! We played Cranium with some of my wonderful ETBU friends, Sadie, Sarah, Megan, Brittany, and Holly. I won of course, but hey we had some good competition :)...Then we watched Parental Control and I stayed in Megan's (my suite-mate...or should I say my sweetmate ;D) room....&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we went to the ETBU football game and had a blast! Here are some beautiful pictures of my friend and I (Megan)....ETBU won...I guess we're their good luck charms b/c this was their first win...so anyways. After that, we ate cafeteria food (boo, no good on wkends!)...and then Ammellia (roommate) and I re-arranged our room which looks fabulous by the way. Then, Megan and I watched one of my top 10 movie choices...How to Loose a Guy in 10 Days. and we kinda dosed off on that one. ....&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, we went to Central Baptist Church and ate pancakes for breakfast. After church we got together with a group of friends and ate Chinese food. Then we came back to ETBU campus and Megan and I took a 2 hour nap I think and worked on homework. Then we went to Wal-Mart and got a couple of things and stopped by Quizno's (one of the greatest inventions in the world ;))...and ate here and finished some more homework....which I'm not doing now...I got a little distracted...I know this blog doesn't change your life or anything, but hey, it kept you entertained for at least a minute or 2!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-116036850423590243?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/116036850423590243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=116036850423590243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/116036850423590243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/116036850423590243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/10/somewhat-decent-weekend.html' title='Somewhat Decent Weekend'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115716914385244881</id><published>2006-09-01T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T14:44:46.282-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Clean Slate?</title><content type='html'>Well, I have gone through a week of college. It's been different; definately not what I wanted the week to end with, but it happens to me I guess. Monday-Wednesday went by great. Things went by fairly smoothly and I enjoyed my classes. Then Thursday came, unfortunately, . ...First off, my alarm didn't go off. That should have been the first sign that things weren't going to go well. I rushed to get ready and I headed off to go to my class which was English. I started up the stairs of the building and went up to the fourth floor where my class was. I walked into the doors and I thought that everything looked a little weird, like everything was a little misplaced, but I thought &lt;em&gt;Well, I've only been in this building once so it may be just my mind playing tricks on me. &lt;/em&gt;So I went down the hallway and I remembered that my class was at the end of the hall. So I went down there and the door was closed, and I was like, okay, she has another class, I'll just wait in the hallway for a while. Then I was thinking, okay, it's 9:20 they should be out by now, so I started to head towards the stairwell and this lady walked out of one of the offices down the hall. And she asked if i needed help. I said, "No, I just have a class here I was just waiting for it to let out." And she responded, "No, you don't have a class in here you must be thinking of Scarborough." (which I was). So I ran to get to my REAL class, which I barely made it. Then she started class with "How did your interview go." I didn't now that we had to have our people interviewed because I hadn't had a chance to look at the syllabus for English. I had called my aunt to interview but she couldn't talk and so she was going to call me back. But she never did. And even if she did, there was no way i could write notes on what she was going to tell me because I wouldn't have gotten anything accomplished the way that my teacher wanted. But that's beside the point. That wasn't the only problem of the day...&lt;br /&gt;I have piano class on Thursday as well. I had been working on this one piece over the summer. I assumed that my teacher would ask me to play something for him. So I chose the piece I was talking about. So I began playing it and it was fine until I got to this one place and I went totally blank. I mean blank to where I wanted to jump out of the window and run as far away from the piano as I possibly could blank. I knew that piece what happened? It still boggles my mind why this happened. ....That's not it. I had to play it again, with all of the piano performance majors in the room (Studio Piano Group). And I practiced an HOUR on that one piece that I had played probably 5 million times before. My mom probably has it memorized more than I do. And I went blank in front of everyone. I felt so humiliated.&lt;br /&gt;This whole starting out on a clean slate thing. I guess it doesn't work for me. I've gotten so used to being discouraged and cast out because of my musical abilities that I've let that take place of my confidence. Studying music is harder than it looks. I can write out scales and key signitures and tell you how many half steps it is from F# to C but that doesn't change the way I play. That doesn't change my confidence. I came here to get that confidence that I really never had. Yes, I can sing and I can play the piano, but I will be the first to admit I have trouble doing both in pubic. In fact, it scares me to even think about it. But I feel like God has called me to do both. I don't know when, where, how or why, but he does. And I'm going to continue to try my best to make my Heavenly Father proud.&lt;br /&gt;Pray for me anyone who reads this!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115716914385244881?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115716914385244881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115716914385244881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115716914385244881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115716914385244881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/09/clean-slate.html' title='A Clean Slate?'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115647799746518812</id><published>2006-08-24T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T20:53:17.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Time is Near</title><content type='html'>Well, it's been a week of getting to know people and going through boring sessions and listening to professors talk about things I already sort of knew. Now I must enter into the real world again. I must be attentative and studious. I must work hard at my choice of practice. Two hours in front of the piano minimum will be expected of me more than likely. Many of these people I saw this week, I will see very little of. Much like church camp, I have not fulfilled what I've come here to do. (Form relationships with different people). I have a tendency of forming a click, and never leaving it. The people I have hung out with are my roommate, suitemates and random short conversations with people I don't remember their names. Why do I do this? Why do I not reach out and get to know others? Am I afraid? Do I avoid people I don't want to form relationships with? And why do I not want to do that? They're just as human as I am. It seems as if this week has brought up a bunch of questions about why I choose to do what I do...and I don't know. I don't know why I form clicks, I don't know why I have trouble showing people how I truly feel. I'm sure some of it is because of my past, but surely it's not all of that. Because as long as I remember I've been this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115647799746518812?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115647799746518812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115647799746518812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115647799746518812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115647799746518812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/08/time-is-near.html' title='The Time is Near'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115630439333059383</id><published>2006-08-22T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T20:39:53.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally here!</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm finally here. Planning this for a long time. I don't have that much time to write and plus, i'm tired...so i just wanted to let my wonderful friends know that I'm really excited for the school year to start. I love learning about new things and daily learn, and so, i can't wait to study what I love almost ALL DAY EVERYDAY!!!! lol...anyways. short blog, but i like my roommate and SWEETmates! so it's goin great so far! I hope that everyone in Lufkin is doin great too! I miss every single one of them!!! Well, i'll post an update later on! Take care guys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindsay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115630439333059383?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115630439333059383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115630439333059383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115630439333059383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115630439333059383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/08/finally-here.html' title='Finally here!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115346092464689424</id><published>2006-07-17T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T22:48:44.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Craziness</title><content type='html'>I haven’t blogged in a while, which probably explains why everything’s been so crazy and overbearing lately. I think it helps a lot that I get things out in the open through my blogs. I don’t talk much when it comes to serious things because I’m always afraid that I’ll say something untruthful or something. Like if I’m talking about something that I’m unsure about or not quite knowledgeable about. But I won’t get into that right now. That’s not why I decided to write.  I need to get my feelings out about other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope that I don’t offend anyone, but a very good friend of mine told me I need to stop worrying about that because that’s normally what keeps me from saying things. I’ve been hurting for a long time. Not personally, but hurting for others; people come to me or even worse, they don’t come to me and someone else tells me about them. For some reason, as soon as I hear that someone has a problem or are struggling with something, I find it as my responsibility to fix it. I’m slowly realizing that this isn’t how things are supposed to be. I’m not saying that you aren’t supposed to be there for them because it says in Galatians 6 that we are supposed to be there for others and carry other’s loads, but I’ve learned that it’s out of my power to handle everyone that comes to me with their problems’ problems (that’s kinda hard to word!!). I truly don’t know what all is going on in the world at all, but someone else does. Someone else is there that knows EVERYTHING that is going on, and how everyone’s relationships are linked to the rest of the world. People’s problems, concerns and struggles are not just my problem to fix, and I shouldn’t be held responsible for fixing all of them because it’s humanly impossible. But Philippians 4:13 says that THROUGH Christ anything is possible. It’s possible that your problems, concerns and struggles can be resolved as long as you continue to look to God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan has gotten a hold of some people that were in my life on a regular basis this year, unfortunately. They meant a lot to me and still do, but it’s been very hard for me lately in dealing with it. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to fix things and make things the way that they used to be, but the truth is, you can’t make things the way that they used to be because we will always look to the past and how everything was in that miserable time too. Just like a pencil eraser, when you try to erase something, you can’t erase it completely, there’s still some mark of your mistake. No matter how hard you try, it will still be there, but that’s the amazing thing believe it or not. God uses your story either way, whether you’ve had a miserable and difficult life with lots of eraser markings or a clean neat life that appears to be perfectly planned out. God doesn’t want you to overlook your faults because that’s what brings others to Christ, what you were and what you are now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115346092464689424?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115346092464689424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115346092464689424' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115346092464689424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115346092464689424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/07/craziness.html' title='Craziness'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115346072292674725</id><published>2006-07-16T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T22:45:22.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Strong Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I found this quote while reading today...i thought they were rather wonderfully put together, so fit to put on my blog! Enjoy! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;“She has been unkind to you, no doubt; because you see, she dislikes your&lt;br /&gt;cast of character, as Miss Scatcherd does mine: but how minutely you remember&lt;br /&gt;all she has done and said to you! What a singularly deep impression her&lt;br /&gt;injustice seems to have made on your heart! Not ill-usage so brands its record&lt;br /&gt;on my feelings. Would you not be happier if you tried to forget her severity,&lt;br /&gt;together with the passionate emotions it excited? Life appears to me too short&lt;br /&gt;to be spent in nursing animosity, or registering wrongs. We are, and must be,&lt;br /&gt;one and all, burdened with faults in this world, but the time will soon come&lt;br /&gt;when, I trust, we shall put them off our corruptible bodies; when debasement and&lt;br /&gt;sin will fall from us with this cumbrous frame of flesh, and only the spark of&lt;br /&gt;the spirit will remain—the impalpable principle of life and thought, pure as&lt;br /&gt;when it left the Creator to inspire the creature: whence it came it will return;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps again to be communicated to some being higher than man—perhaps to pass through gradations of glory, from the pale human soul to brighten to the seraph! Surely it will never on the contrary, be suffered to degenerate from man to&lt;br /&gt;fiend? No; I cannot believe that. I hold another creed; which no one ever taught&lt;br /&gt;me, and which I seldom mention; but in which I delight, and to which I cling:&lt;br /&gt;for it extends hope to all; it makes Eternity a rest—a mighty home, not a terror&lt;br /&gt;and an abyss. Besides, with this creed, I can so clearly distinguish between the&lt;br /&gt;criminal and his crime; I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor the&lt;br /&gt;last: with this creed revenge never worries my heart, degradation never too&lt;br /&gt;deeply disgusts me, injustice never crushes me too low; I live in calm, looking&lt;br /&gt;to the end.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-Excerpt from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115346072292674725?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115346072292674725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115346072292674725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115346072292674725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115346072292674725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/07/some-strong-thoughts.html' title='Some Strong Thoughts'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115388810863171126</id><published>2006-07-15T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T21:28:28.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Weekend</title><content type='html'>This weekend i went to my dads...Something had gone on in his life that had made him depressed...i don't know exactly what, but something wasn't right...i had never seen him so miserable. I just want to put up a post so that others know that my daddy's in pain on the inside...and it not only hurts him, but it hurts me as well. Maybe it's one of the best things that he's going to go through because i believe that everything happens for a reason. We don't always know the reason, and we may never know, but God knows why and He's there for us. But then again maybe its something that will only bring him down even more. I don't know, but God knows. Pray that my family and I will be strong enough to help him through this tough time. I'm afraid that these tough times will have to help him out of this sinful stage of his life. ...and Daddy, if you're reading this...i'm sorry i don't have the guts to say that to you verbally...hopefully you've picked up on the fact that i don't agree with what you're doing with your life, but if not ...i'm sorry it had to work out this way...&lt;strong&gt;i love you&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;no matter what happens&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;what decisions you make&lt;/em&gt;, but that doesn't change my beliefs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115388810863171126?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115388810863171126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115388810863171126' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115388810863171126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115388810863171126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/07/daddys-weekend.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Weekend'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051844701452922</id><published>2006-06-12T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:27:27.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Vacation</title><content type='html'>Our summer of 2006&lt;br /&gt;Is something we will always miss.&lt;br /&gt;We laughed a lot in spite of rain,&lt;br /&gt;And our trip to Myrtle was kind of lame.&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed the ocean breeze,&lt;br /&gt;And all our many shopping sprees.&lt;br /&gt;We packed our bags and went real far&lt;br /&gt;In our little Taurus car.&lt;br /&gt;But now we’re home and happy too,&lt;br /&gt;Because we saw the ocean blue!&lt;br /&gt;By Katie Williams and Lindsay Hollowell&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051844701452922?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051844701452922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051844701452922' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051844701452922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051844701452922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/ode-to-vacation.html' title='Ode to Vacation'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051840619289928</id><published>2006-06-11T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:26:46.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 11</title><content type='html'>We went to Cracker Barrel for dinner. I love that place! I found a bear that says All Star Dad on his hind feet. It’s so adorable. I couldn’t walk away without it even though I know Daddy doesn’t really need it ;) We stopped in Knoxville, TN at the Parkview Inn. They were remodeling so it smelt like a mixture of plaster and paint and wallpaper paste in the hallways, but the rooms and people were very nice. We’re going to visit Belmont University today. I hope it’s as nice as it looks on the website. I would love to live in Tennessee. It’s all so pretty here. The mountains on the west and the musical influences on the east. It’s so perfect for me, isn’t it?! ;) I took so many pictures of the landscaping yesterday. I’ll probably do the same today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, well, I didn’t take as many pictures as I did yesterday. I slept a lot. We stopped at Belmont, and it was an okay campus from the outside; maybe it looks better on the inside. It was also on the other side of town than Passion was on…We ate lunch at Arby’s just outside of Nashville; I’ve had better, but it was okay. (I’m very critical this week I guess!) We got to Little Rock, Arkansas and ate at Applebee’s. It wasn’t that great either…they didn’t put enough sauce on my Fiesta Lime Chicken! (not a biggie though…it was still good). Now we’re at Best Western that isn’t the BEST! They don’t have ANY extra pillows, and you can’t see your feet at the bottom of the 3’ pool (what does that tell you!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051840619289928?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051840619289928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051840619289928' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051840619289928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051840619289928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-11.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 11'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051834771928346</id><published>2006-06-10T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:25:47.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 10</title><content type='html'>We left the house around 10 AM this morning. It was so sad, but I’m glad I’m going back to reality. We stopped at Hardee’s not to long from now (1:05 PM) in Laurel Hill, NC It was PACKED in there! It wasn’t the best experience, but it put food in our tummies :D so it was just enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051834771928346?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051834771928346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051834771928346' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051834771928346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051834771928346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-10.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 10'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051831349476541</id><published>2006-06-09T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:25:13.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 9</title><content type='html'>Today we prepared for leaving tomorrowL. We went out into the ocean tonight for one last time. It was very wavy! Why does it all have to end?! It’s all so sad! I originally had wanted 6 girls to come with me, but I’m kind of glad that it was just Katie and me. Don’t get me wrong, I would have had a blast either way, but it was nice to get closer to my wonderful friend that has stuck by me through ALL that I have been through since I’ve been five. Well, I’m still tired!&lt;br /&gt;Adios Amigos!&lt;br /&gt;Lindsay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051831349476541?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051831349476541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051831349476541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051831349476541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051831349476541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-9.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 9'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051818954855212</id><published>2006-06-08T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:24:38.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 8</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3366ff;"&gt;Today it was extremely windy on the ocean, so we went to Ocean Isle Beach, NC. There, they had a Museum and we went there. It featured a lot of wild life information It was a lot better than that other museum we went to the other day in Cape Fear…or whatever. They had a spot in the museum explaining how the Aztecs counted. They counted with shapes 1-19 looked like the twisted side of a safety pin…20 looked like a flag and 400 looked like a pine tree. When we got back to Holden Beach, we stopped at a couple of shops. I got 2 movies (Moulin Rouge and How to Loose a Guy in 10 Days) I also got a necklace that matched Katie’s. It was very cute! Well, I’m extremely tired! So I’m going to hold off on the extra stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sweet Dreams,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lindsay&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051818954855212?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051818954855212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051818954855212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051818954855212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051818954855212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-8.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 8'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051814859062084</id><published>2006-06-07T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:22:28.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 7</title><content type='html'>Today we went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. It wasn’t as nice as I thought it would be. When we first got there, it didn’t seem to be that bad, just very commercialized. Almost every corner had a miniature golf course place. Then we took a left turn towards the shore and there were a MILLION hotels along the strand. We looked for parking and finally found one for a somewhat reasonable price. Then we walked and found a Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum. It was okay. Not as awesome as it sounded, but oh well, It was still a little interesting! (Some parts super gross…but what do you expect!) After than we looked for a place to eat, but couldn’t find very many places that sounded appetizing or little sister friendly. So we found a Subway with no seating. We had to wait for some inconsiderate jerks that didn’t dry themselves off before going into a restaurant to finish eating. Then we tried to find a place to shop that didn’t look like college party boys/girls lived there (Spenser’s). Then we got away from that area. (Thank goodness) We ended up going shopping at an Eagles and another outdoor shopping center. When we got to the beach house, we went out to the beach to search for sea shells, but got sidetracked by taking a bunch of gorgeous pictures of the ocean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051814859062084?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051814859062084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051814859062084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051814859062084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051814859062084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-7.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 7'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051810833924039</id><published>2006-06-06T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:44:51.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20022.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went to Southport, North Carolina, where we looked in the North Carolina Maritime Museum. There was a lot about Cape Fear there; it was kind of interesting. We were planning on going to Fort Fisher and Bald Head Island, but it was pouring down rain when we left the museum and Jaime was being snotty so I knew that she wouldn’t make things easy on us if we stayed. Oh well, I probably don’t need to spend any money on stuff like that anyway. When we got back to the beach house, we played Cranium, watched an Elizabeth Taylor movie and ate breakfast for dinner (not in that order!) Tomorrow we are supposed to go to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. My grandparents are supposed to come in on Thursday (8th) but they didn’t make any promises. I hope they do though, I don’t get to see them as often as I like. I love my family, but miss them so incredibly much. My friends always complain about family get-togethers/reunions and stuff, but they truly don’t know how well off they have it. I would love to have the &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;opportunity to get to learn about my family history and meet people who are related to me. Everyone has a life story and way better story to hear than my own family’s? Wow, I wrote more than I wanted to. Oh, I also got up SUPER early this morning and walked the beach with my mom and found lots of awesome shells! Well, I better go before I write a whole novel!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051810833924039?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051810833924039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051810833924039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051810833924039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051810833924039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-6.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 6'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115041067280191455</id><published>2006-06-05T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T15:31:12.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20015.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20015.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20014.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20014.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went miniature golfing. I'm so tired. I can't even thing right now. All I can think about right now is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hope it doesn't storm tonight&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My tummy hurts really bad right now and I don't know why&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That spegetti I had tonight was really good &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This bed is really high off the ground and squeeks only sometimes...i hope i don't fall!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, well, i can think a little, but that's NOTHING compared to what all normally goes on in my head! Makes you wonder now, huh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115041067280191455?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115041067280191455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115041067280191455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115041067280191455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115041067280191455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-5.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 5'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115040514738218072</id><published>2006-06-04T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:41:43.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" height="213" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20017.jpg" width="297" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we went out and enjoyed the ocean pretty much. We swam and tried to boogey board, but there weren't enough waves out far enough. We also made a sand castle. We didn't get to finish it though because it was dinner time. We named it "Je n'ai fini pas Castle," which means &lt;em&gt;I'm not finished&lt;/em&gt; in French. &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" height="169" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20021.jpg" width="216" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115040514738218072?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115040514738218072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115040514738218072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040514738218072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040514738218072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-4.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 4'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115051849767955365</id><published>2006-06-03T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:28:17.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Unfinished Song!</title><content type='html'>Your awesome power created this splendor,&lt;br /&gt;Your beautiful hands created this world,&lt;br /&gt;Your wonderful loved breathed life so we could speak your name,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I rejoice.&lt;br /&gt;And you are worthy.&lt;br /&gt;Your beauty is surrounding me,&lt;br /&gt;As I sing about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many others don’t acknowledge your great works.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to show them what I see in You.&lt;br /&gt;Your wonderful mystery amazes me;&lt;br /&gt;I am in awe of You.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115051849767955365?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115051849767955365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115051849767955365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051849767955365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115051849767955365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/another-unfinished-song.html' title='Another Unfinished Song!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115040397386959014</id><published>2006-06-03T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T21:40:32.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="220" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20018.jpg" width="298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20017.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="201" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20017.0.jpg" width="286" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="211" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20020.jpg" width="290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="203" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20013.jpg" width="283" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/NorthCarolina%20019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px" height="176" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/NorthCarolina%20019.jpg" width="290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we're FINALLY here! I've been waiting for this moment ever since I was working in Florida last summer! The Fairfield in was so much nicer than that dinging old Ramada from the night before!!!!! Today we had breakface at the hotel which was nice because we could eat in comfort (and in our pj's!). And for lunch we had Quizno's which wasn't too far from the beach. We went to one of the beach stores near Holden before we checked in at the beach house. We were able to get here a little bid early, which was nice. As soon as we got here we settled in to enjoy. Then shortly after that we stopped to go to the shore. Then went to the loval Wal-Mart and ate frozen pizza (YUMM :S) Today Katie commented on how nice it was to relax and enjoy life on vacation. It is nice I suppose. I loe hearing the waves hit the sand. It's truly amazing what God has created. I'm so blessed to just be about to be here enjoying his marvelous wonder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115040397386959014?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115040397386959014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115040397386959014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040397386959014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040397386959014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-3.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 3'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115040353233225757</id><published>2006-06-02T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T13:47:41.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We left Ramada a little later than expected because I didn't realize that it was past 9AM and I hadn't packed yet. We had a rough night last night anyways. First, there was a bright red light from the hair dryer in the bathroom. I couldn't sleep with that on, so I got up and unplugged it. As soon as I got back in bed, there was this super loud truck outside trying to back up into a parking space or something for about 10 minutes. My mom got up to look out the window and there was a black dude out there. But NONE of us in bed heard her get up and walk to the window so we were shocked when we heard her voice clear across the room. We laughed forever. I woke up at 2:02AM, and tried to go back to bed. I couldn't so I stared at the clock on the microwave for an hour and a half, timing how long it took for our loud air conditioner to come on and off (3 minutes to come on/4 minutes to come off) until I could finally get back to sleep. After that, I was out of it! Katie said that I kicked her, but I don't know, I was asleep! ;P We ate at IHOP for breakfast. (YUCK!..You know they don't have bagels?!) Oh well, I'll live. I took a bunch of pictures in Birmingham, Alabama. (They didn't turn out well, though, so I'm not going to include them!) We tried to look for a postcard, but there was no sign of one in the places we stopped. Maybe on the way back. We also made a little tiny documentary while driving. I thought it would give the movie a little more character ;) Right now we're in Atlanta, GA. I'm hoping to stop soon for lunch, but I doubt it. I'm the only one sort of hungry...Considering I just had a plate of hashbrowns for breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did eat after we went through Atlanta, GA. We went to Chick-fil-A. Katie had never been there so it was a new experience for her...I know, I can't believe it either! Mom still didn't hand over the wheel until after we ate dinner in Columbia, SC at the Pizza Hut. That country speaking wonderful place (*rolling eyes*). I drove to Florence, SC and now we're in the Fairfield Inn, which is MUCH MUCH nicer than the Ramada Inn in Tuscaloosa, Alabama (by the way, never go there!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115040353233225757?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115040353233225757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115040353233225757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040353233225757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040353233225757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-2.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 2'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115040236918032018</id><published>2006-06-01T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T13:12:49.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 1</title><content type='html'>Today we left at around 9 this morning. It was kind of hard to get EVERYTHING in the car! But we succeeded! I drove first uuntil we got into Shreveport, LA. We got there about 11:30. We stopped to eat at a Subway and then mom drove. We had to stop for gas somewhere! And then the next thing you know, Jaime had to go to the batheroom bad. So we stopped at a gas station again. About 2-3 hours later we stopped and ate dinner at Cracker Barrel in Jackson, Miss. I drove a ways down the road, well, another 200 miles, and we stopped at a Ramada Inn. So, that's where we are. I can't wait to get to the beach! It's gunna be great. I hope the weather is going to be superb for tanning and hanging out on the beach...(NO RAIN PLEASE!!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115040236918032018?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115040236918032018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115040236918032018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040236918032018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040236918032018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/06/senior-tripday-1.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 1'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-115040194503536194</id><published>2006-05-31T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T13:05:45.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Trip...Day 0</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Spontaneous Combustion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;My mom is acting so weird today. At first, she's all nice, and then, at the first sign of craziness she decides to threaten me to cancel the trip, &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; senior trip! How ridiculous is that?! I was telling her the honest truth about how I felt about things and she blows up on my like a balloon. That's never happened before...EVER! And if you know my mom you would believe me. Aren't mothers supposed to be there for you? No matter what it's about? Whether it's about how annoying or selfish your sister is acting or how crazy you feel because you did something stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-115040194503536194?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/115040194503536194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=115040194503536194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040194503536194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/115040194503536194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/05/senior-tripday-0.html' title='Senior Trip...Day 0'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-114782013697382956</id><published>2006-05-16T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T21:38:06.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen up guys....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;Countless times I have told guys that I didn't want a dating relationship with them, and they just didn't seem to understand why, so for you guys who are clueless, i just want to clue you in on common reasons why women say no:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;Your friend asks us out for you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;We ask you to call us, and when you call us TWO MONTHS LATER! you wonder what is going on!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;You've been around us for a whole year at school/work and never give us the time of day, then decide to ask us out when you know that we are moving or no longer going to be around. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;Women rarely date younger guys, unless you're mature for your age (not the cocky mature either!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;Just to let yall know, this guy in my class wants to date me, but: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;neglected to tell me earlier in the year&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;waits till the last day of school to HAVE HIS FRIEND ASK ME!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;told his friend to ask me!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;didn't even give me the time of day to get to know me...in other words doesn't want to date me for me, but for my looks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;is 16 while I'm 18 (I know that's only two years difference, but he acts like 14...so it's more like 4 years!)...studies do show that women are more mature than men, so i would date higher up, but never younger!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;avoids me at all costs!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;Now does that sound like boyfriend material! NOPE! Guys, you're supposed to be the more logical of the two...think before you start liking someone!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-114782013697382956?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/114782013697382956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=114782013697382956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114782013697382956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114782013697382956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/05/listen-up-guys.html' title='Listen up guys....'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-114669744863897720</id><published>2006-05-02T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T16:07:29.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, I've written a new song! I was going through another tough time. I was actually going to bed thinking about my problem, and all of a sudden these lyrics popped into my head and I couldn't get them out! So I turned on the light and started writing it...it was so amazing how God just gave me that song! I didn't work hard to make sure that it sounded good because His songs are perfect! I know it's addressed to God, but it was like he was assuring me that He really knows how I feel and that's amazing. I never understood how someone perfect could understand someone imperfect without truly experiencing imperfection. But this song is proof of that...Anyways...here it is:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Extraordinary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 1:&lt;br /&gt;This broken heart is crying,&lt;br /&gt;This broken heart is dying,&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t&lt;br /&gt;know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Lord I don’t know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;But you,&lt;br /&gt;I’m giving you something less than ordinary,&lt;br /&gt;A little more than extraordinary&lt;br /&gt;I’m getting something perfect&lt;br /&gt;And it’s definitely worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 2:&lt;br /&gt;There’s so much expectation&lt;br /&gt;I need a revelation&lt;br /&gt;You will rescue me&lt;br /&gt;Thank God, you will rescue me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridge:&lt;br /&gt;So here’s my heart&lt;br /&gt;I give it all&lt;br /&gt;I give it up&lt;br /&gt;It’s in your hands&lt;br /&gt;It’s in your hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-114669744863897720?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/114669744863897720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=114669744863897720' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114669744863897720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114669744863897720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/05/new-song.html' title='New Song'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-114669798543846207</id><published>2006-04-07T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T16:13:05.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Guardian"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Oh my gosh! I just finished the greatest book in the world that I know of! It's called the Guardian and it's by Nicolas Sparks. I love Nicolas Sparks!! He's a great writer...I think this is one of his best books...well of the ones that I've read. If you ever get a chance to read a book...read this one! If you don't have any other obligations...b/c this book you will not be able to put down! I stayed up until 1PM 'cause I couldn't go to sleep without finishing it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-114669798543846207?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/114669798543846207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=114669798543846207' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114669798543846207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114669798543846207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/04/guardian.html' title='&quot;The Guardian&quot;'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-114125834285337381</id><published>2006-03-01T16:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T20:01:36.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolution</title><content type='html'>This is going to be short and sweet for now, until I can expand on this...I don't have much time.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about something a few days ago. And somehow evolution went through my brain. Partially because my History 1302 class is dealing with the 1920's era when there was a case between the Fundamentalists (Christians) and Darwinism because a teacher taught the theory of evolution in the classroom, when it was never talked about before. But that's beside the point...I was thinking...Why would anyone want to create the idea of evolution when they probably were basically given the truth in my opinion. I don't know anything about Charles Darwin's past so this is just what I was thinking. My thoughts are that it's because he constantly had to deal with what a lot of what other people deal with today and in the past and also what people will deal with in the future. We constantly have a problem with authority. We always try to find a problem with the people in authority to prove them inadequit to be in their position. And once we do...we want to stick it in their face. Not saying that God is in his position by fault...that's far from the truth. But the fact of the matter is, Evolution in my opinion, was created so that people wouldn't have to deal with God's authority. So they came up with a "theory" that would resolve that issue.  But in the end it wouldn't resolve the issue, because in the end they would all answer to God anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-114125834285337381?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/114125834285337381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=114125834285337381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114125834285337381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114125834285337381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/03/evolution.html' title='Evolution'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-114023611552000777</id><published>2006-02-17T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T20:20:42.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brain Pattern</title><content type='html'>This was creepy...You should take this and find out what you are....lol...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your Brain's Pattern&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatpatternisyourbrainquiz/8.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;You have a dreamy mind, full of fancy and fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;You have the ability to stay forever entertained with your thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;People may say you're hard to read, but that's because you're so internally focused.&lt;br /&gt;But when you do share what you're thinking, people are impressed with your imagination.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;What&lt;/a&gt; Pattern Is Your Brain?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-114023611552000777?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/114023611552000777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=114023611552000777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114023611552000777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/114023611552000777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-brain-pattern.html' title='My Brain Pattern'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113968561290678622</id><published>2006-02-11T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T11:20:12.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Future</title><content type='html'>Well, it's official. I've played in a band. All my life I've dreamt of being the one up there on stage. But i never thought that it would be so humbling. The first week I performed, I hated it to be quite honest. The only reason that I hated it was because I felt like I was in a constant battle with Satan. He kept on telling me, you're not meant for the stage. You're not talented like all of these other people. You're meant to teach piano to students who will be come someone. At first I thought it was God telling that this isn't where I was supposed to be. But now that I look back at it, there's no way it could've been God telling me. He put me up there in the first place. But I realize something now. I have to become someone in order to teach someone how to become someone...right? I don't know if he wants me to teach piano to "future somebody’s" or to become someone and not teach anyone. And I hate to say that now, because it's my senior year in H.S. That leaves me to not knowing what I want to major in or where I want to go. The first week playing, with all that was going through my mind, there was no way I could've worshipped up on that stage. And it being my first time up there with a band, I had built up nervousness on top of that. But I have played for 2 weeks now. and the second week, after realizing this, I wouldn't want to be any place else. Than where God wants me to be. So anyone reading this, pray that this satisfaction continues. I don't like being in the midst of a battle of uncertainty. So also pray that God lets me know where to go to major in what He wants me to major in&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113968561290678622?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113968561290678622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113968561290678622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113968561290678622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113968561290678622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/02/future.html' title='Future'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113781967321674543</id><published>2006-01-15T20:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T21:01:13.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>College</title><content type='html'>Well, my dad and I had a little conversation this week. We were in the car and somehow we began talking about college. And he continued talking like always, never stopping for my input, just giving out his two cents like always. I finally couldn't take it anymore and the only way I could possibly fix things is to break his heart. I hate to say it, but I burst out crying on purpose. There was this argument in my head saying DON'T CRY, CRY, DON'T CRY, CRY. And I hate to inconveniently cry...If that's possible. But you can only hold in your emotions for so long which is something I tend to do. I stand strong in large crowds but I only cry in the presence of my God. I've realized that if I cry in front of people, someone ends up getting hurt. I either say something wrong, or I don't express my emotions quite right to other peoples understanding, or I get hurt because I'm not as stable as I thought I was. I don't know if that makes any sense, but I don't know of any other way to explain it. I can't stand for anyone to get their feelings hurt, so I just keep to myself. Anyway, I burst out crying. And my dad didn't understand why I was crying. And I didn't quite understand why I was crying either. I just got tired of him talking to me about college, especially seeing as I don't know where I want to go or major in. But he asked me why I started crying. And all that could come to my mind was "I never feel like your proud of me." Which for anyone reading, is not the smartest thing to say to a parent just for future reference. Just to make a long story short. It all boiled down to him figuring out that my parent's divorce is the main reason I always feel like he's not proud of me. The reason being is b/c he lives so far out, I feel it's an inconvenience for him to come see me for events of importance. I need my father's presence. I miss him so much, that it hurts. I've realized that him leaving has brought me back to square one; I'm back to where I've started. When I was younger, he was never at home. And that somehow made me shy; I didn't want to communicate with anyone. I guess he was my comfort, my shield, when he was around, I knew that everything would be okay soon, if not immediately. When my parents divorced, that happened all over again, but I was so confused at that time...Typical middle school craziness (I passionately dislike middle school!) so I covered my insecurity w/ forcing myself to appear secure. And I've now realized that's what was going on. And soon after my heart was broken, I went through a major shyness. So people saw an almost immediate change in my behavior. I didn't go this in depth with my dad. But I'm actually understanding this as I type. LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113781967321674543?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113781967321674543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113781967321674543' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113781967321674543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113781967321674543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/01/college.html' title='College'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113660966325714283</id><published>2006-01-06T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:58:05.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nashville-Passion (cont'd)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010037.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/passion4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/passion4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010038.6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010036.7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010035.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010034.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010034.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010033.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010033.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are kind of out of order, so bare with me here.... We went to Joe's Crab Shack on Wed. (Jan. 3) and I didn't eat anything because it was expensive and I don't like seafood. The first and fourth picture are from the side of the building. The second, fifth and sixth pictures are of Beth Moore. We got to go see her on Wed. as well. She was at one of the Breakout sessions. Breakout sessions were available to everyone to go see who they wanted to. All of Nashville was involved with this and so there were many buildings and speakers to visit. The first day a couple of us went to see ??Greg Matte?? but i never took any pictures. third picture is another picture of the Hard Rock Cafe sign, and I don't know how to delete it, so if anyone can tell me how to delete just one picture let me know :D The seventh picture is a pic of Louis Giglio. He's a wonderful speaker. He spoke twice I believe. I remember one time he spoke about how God made the universe which is many lightyears big. But yet he still choses us. The last  picture are of John Piper. He spoke twice about suffering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113660966325714283?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113660966325714283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113660966325714283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660966325714283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660966325714283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/01/nashville-passion-contd_113660966325714283.html' title='Nashville-Passion (cont&apos;d)'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113660858277280024</id><published>2006-01-06T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:36:22.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nashville-Passion (cont'd)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010026.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010022.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010021.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010020.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The first photo was during one of the main sessions. It would start out with a praise and worship through song. and then a speaker would come out and talk to us. and then we would have another group of songs to sing. They wouldn't tell you who was playing the day of the session. Everyday was a surprise. This picture was taken on January 3 (Wed.). The David Crowder Band was playing. They were incredible. I loved that they were so exciting; it was great. The second picture is the picture of the pool at our hotel. I thought it was awesom that the pool was shaped like a guitar. That was the best part of the hotel. :D The next picture is a pic of Chris Tomlin I believe. He was great too. All of the performers were wonderful. The next picture i have no idea why I took it. I think it was a pic to show you how many people were actually there because the band is kinda off to the side! The last photo is a picture of Chris Tomlin again. He sang alot, and that's wonderful in my opinion :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113660858277280024?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113660858277280024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113660858277280024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660858277280024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660858277280024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/01/nashville-passion-contd_06.html' title='Nashville-Passion (cont&apos;d)'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113660687600200486</id><published>2006-01-06T19:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:55:11.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nashville-Passion (cont'd)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010019.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010016.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/I3010016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/passion2.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/passion2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/passion1.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/passion1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/passion.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/200/passion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Alright, I don't know what the first picture is, but it has to be something. I took a picture of it...If i ever find out, i'll edit this post and you can keep on looking at this entry if it bugs you. :D The next picture is just some randome picture of downtown, but i don't know where, and why I took it....lol...The next two pictures are of another sign to the Hard Rock Cafe. I thought that this sign was awesome, so I took a picture of it :D. The last picture is the Gaylord Arena. I never got a full picture of the building, but it was enormous. It packed over 18,000 people in there every session!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113660687600200486?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113660687600200486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113660687600200486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660687600200486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660687600200486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/01/nashville-passion-contd_113660687600200486.html' title='Nashville-Passion (cont&apos;d)'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113660518566538839</id><published>2006-01-06T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T19:39:45.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nashville-Passion (cont'd)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010008.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="168" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010008.3.jpg" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010010.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" height="171" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010010.1.jpg" width="262" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010006.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" height="186" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010006.3.jpg" width="231" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010011.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px" height="193" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010011.1.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px" height="214" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010014.jpg" width="293" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, This first picture is the top of the Galord Arena and later on I will have a picture of the entrance. This next picture is a picture of two of my good friends Paula (the same on in my first entry) and Kellie. I have known Kellie for a while. She is a wonderful person and has a love for people and God. Shes so awesome. The next picture is a far away picture of a wall mural. It was on the side of the Hard Rock Cafe. There were many murals throughout the town, unfortunately, i never took any pictures of them :( oh well. The next picture is a picture of Kellie again. and the picture after that is the sign for Hard Rock Cafe. Kellie's picture and Kellie's, Paula's, and my picture are in Hard Rock Cafe. We actually sat in the Bar, but no worries, we never ordered anything alcoholic. They had wonderful food, they just didn't give us alot. I wish they did though, it was expensive enough. lol...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113660518566538839?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113660518566538839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113660518566538839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660518566538839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660518566538839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/01/nashville-passion-contd.html' title='Nashville-Passion (cont&apos;d)'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113660292844586647</id><published>2006-01-06T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T19:02:08.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nashville-Passion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="222" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010003.jpg" width="297" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 285px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px" height="200" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010002.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" height="224" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010001.jpg" width="298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" height="214" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010004.jpg" width="281" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010005.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px" height="218" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010005.0.jpg" width="292" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I was in Nashvill, Tennessee. It was SO awesome! I could see myself living there! I think it'll be easier if I just explained the trip by explaining the pictures. It'll be easier for me..lol...I'll go from left to right. The first picture is a picture of the bridge we had to walk across in order to get to the conference I went to. The reason I was in Nashville was because the college group at my church was going there. It was a conference called Passion. It is held annually at Nashville, although next year it is going to be in Atlanta, Georgia. Now, back to the bridge....The main place we were at most of the time was approxomately 2 miles away from the hotel we were staying at. The first 2 days we walked back and forth from the hotel and the Gaylord Arena (that's where it all happened :D) The next picture is just a picture of downtown Nashville from about .5 miles away. The next picture is a picture of a wonderful friend of mine. Her name is Paula. I only get to see her once a year *tear* because she lives in Brazil. But it's okay. I'm SO glad for the Internet :D Its one of the best inventions of the world :D The other 2 pictures are pictures of downtown Nashville as well. I will continue in my next few blog entries...lol..i feel like I'm making a documentary, but with typing... TO BE CONTINUED ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113660292844586647?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113660292844586647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113660292844586647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660292844586647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113660292844586647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2006/01/nashville-passion.html' title='Nashville-Passion'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113511735725747011</id><published>2005-12-20T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T14:50:41.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To a friend!</title><content type='html'>Dear Friend (You know who you are if you read this!)&lt;br /&gt;I'm here writing you because I think I feel your pain! I was unfair how your father was laid off like that. I just wanted to truly let you know that I know how you might feel towards certain people because I have been there. In fact, I'm in the midst of that storm as well. My mother was "let go" last school year and is yet to find a teaching job locally. We don't know exactly why she wasn't told to come back the following year, but it really doesn't matter at this point. I felt complete disgust and anger at how the school board handled everything and at how everyone seemed to let everything happen knowing my mother had to support 2 children (and a dog!). I had no intention of coming back into that building because I didn't know what I would've said to that man behind the principal's desk. (I know, it's a big surprise that I couldn't have spoken when not necessary; it's amazing what anger can do to you! ), but then I realized something. Despite what happened, my mother still occasionally works there (substitute teaching). If she can come back peacefully, why am I all worked up about it? My mom was at peace throughout the whole thing and remains there just like when Jesus was resting in the boat throughout the storm. I'm not telling you this to preach to you because peace, I believe, is a choice you have to make in order to have. God gives people the gift of peace, but in order to receive a gift, you must accept it first. I'm telling you this because I'm someone who has been there. (twice actually, but that's another story for another time), and if you need someone to listen to you vent, I'm the person who's there, because I'm a great listener (you know how much I talk and I won't judge you for anything you say. Take care. I'll be praying for your family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://xfb.xanga.com/cfdb04413003323284575/b13783218.jpg" target="xangaphoto"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless, &lt;a href="http://xfb.xanga.com/cfdb04413003323284575/b13783218.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 59px; height: 61px;" alt="" src="http://xfb.xanga.com/cfdb04413003323284575/b13783218.jpg" border="0" height="117" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://xfb.xanga.com/cfdb04413003323284575/b13783218.jpg" target="xangaphoto"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lindsay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113511735725747011?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113511735725747011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113511735725747011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113511735725747011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113511735725747011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/12/to-friend.html' title='To a friend!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113503193924500809</id><published>2005-12-19T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T14:38:59.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disappointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I got a letter in the mail today. I didn't get the scholarship I've worked towards for the past 2 years for. Which is a major disappointment because all that work, all those 2-3 hours a day working on two flippin' pieces went right down the tube. Not only did the letter tell me that I didn't get the schalorship, they also let me know that I won't even be considered for a music major. I guess I'm as good as I thought...not good at all. What was I thinking. I would pick up on my excellence after not taking lessons for 5 years? Obviously I'm not as quick of a learner as I used to be. I thought this is what God was calling me to do. Now I don't know what to do. Not only that, I found out that the guy I've liked for forever has a 'friend' that is coming to Lufkin with him for Christmas. Guess that ruins my chances of anything possibly happening. I was wrong. When I really wanted to tell him how I felt, I told myself he didn't need the destraction, but I was wrong. I have a feeling that it's all going downhill from here, which is a major disappointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113503193924500809?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113503193924500809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113503193924500809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113503193924500809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113503193924500809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/12/disappointment.html' title='Disappointment'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113503240813656592</id><published>2005-12-11T01:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T14:50:52.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"She doesn't need a boyfriend." The words pierced through my ears straight into my mind. What is that supposed to mean? I don't need a boyfriend; no one needs a boyfriend. Is that how all guys view me? Am I marked with the "independence plague"? So much that no guy wants me because I don't need them? I may not need a boyfriend, but that doesn't change my desire for one. I promised myself I wouldn't get involved with any sort with a guy until I was in college, but right now I wonder. Was that a silly request? Right now my desire for a boyfriend far exceeds my imagination, which brings my down much further than any other guy would, which is kind of useless because the guy I've been dreaming for is far from my reach now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113503240813656592?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113503240813656592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113503240813656592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113503240813656592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113503240813656592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/12/she-doesnt-need-boyfriend.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113417846986356801</id><published>2005-12-09T17:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T17:34:29.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>College Audition</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;OMG. I don't want to do this ever again! It's so nerve racking. I messed up so many times..... I think. I SO wish i had someone else able to come in there with me so they could tell me how I did afterwards! I'm SO scared they didn't think I was good enough. But that happens alot...Lots of my friends say they think i did fine, but they honestly don't know, so it's really hard to judge. Man, I messed up when they interviewed me as well. I actually told them what I wanted to do in the future COMPLETELY...and you know what? The Head of the Dept. told me to consider a colleges that offers both majors! OMG! Can you believe that...they don't like me @ all! I'm so worried...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113417846986356801?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113417846986356801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113417846986356801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113417846986356801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113417846986356801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/12/college-audition.html' title='College Audition'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113305000270104226</id><published>2005-11-26T15:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T16:34:28.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Audition</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"&gt;Well, I'm now considered part of my youth group's band. I'm going to play the keyboard. I kinda want to sing, but there's more of a demand in keyboard right now. I don't start until January, but it's all good. Now all I have to worry about is college auditions. SCARY! I don't even feel like a senior, much less almost in college. I mean I can't wait to go to college and get out of the house (more or less to be independant!) I hope that I get a scholarship for piano though...my family can't begin to afford college...pray that i do good...i need it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113305000270104226?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113305000270104226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113305000270104226' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113305000270104226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113305000270104226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/11/audition.html' title='Audition'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262294179428216</id><published>2005-11-21T17:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:29:01.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>John Ruskin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;"There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it. In our whole life-melody, the music is broken off here and there by “rests,” and we foolishly think we have some to the end of time. God sends a time of forced leisure—sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts—and makes us a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives and we lament that our voices must be silent and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator. How does the musician read the rest? See him beat time with unvarying count and catch up the next note true and steady as if no breaking place had come between. Not without design does God write the music of our lives. But be it ours to learn the time and not be dismayed at the “rests.” They are not to be slurred over, not be omitted. Not to destroy melody, not to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat time for us with the eye on Him we shall strike on Him. We shall strike the next note full and clear."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I think that honestly explains itself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262294179428216?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262294179428216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262294179428216' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262294179428216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262294179428216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/11/john-ruskin.html' title='John Ruskin'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262313796555710</id><published>2005-11-13T23:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:32:17.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairy Tales</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So many girls hope, wish, and dream for a fairy tale ending. Ever since I was little, i've been told that there is no such thing. But up until now, I've always wanted one. I don't anymore. I want a fairy tale beginning. Not the magic, not the talking animals, talking inanimate objects, or singing little people. I just want the happiness, satisfaction, the completeness. It seems as if when they get their fairy tale ending, all their past troubles, horrible thoughts, and sorrows withered away in the moonlight. It was a brand new day and all the things in the past were just that; things in the past. I've never felt that. I've always lived life day by day adding on to the things in the past. Carrying my past troubles, thoughts and feelings. When one more would just get heavier and heavier until I would break down. I want a fairy tale beginning because I've always held on to memories. It would be nice to just one remember something good that happened. Many times we all find that bad outweighs good. Not only does Satan want us to believe that, but most of us look for the bad in others rather than the good. I guess I'm crying out for the ability to see beyond the bad things people see in me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262313796555710?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262313796555710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262313796555710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262313796555710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262313796555710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/11/fairy-tales.html' title='Fairy Tales'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262304176553090</id><published>2005-11-05T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:30:41.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaron</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#006600;"&gt;It upsets me at how evil this world can me. And how our anger tends to be but out on people that aren't near victims of what happened. My cousin was stabbed about 3" from the hear on Halloween night. He was in ICU until November 1 and sent to another department until November 3, 2005. Even after this, although at home, he is unable to lift anything above 10 lbs. or alowed to go anywhere for 10 days. Evidentlly, he was handing out candy to little innocent children, like most people do, until 3 teenage boys came to the door and snatched the candy out of his hands. My cousin, being the way he is, ran after them to get the candy back. The boys decided it was the best decision to jump him and one decided to stab him. The one who stabbed him I believe is in juvinile, but i could be wrong...I know he got caught though. It just hurts me that people can do that and laugh about it later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262304176553090?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262304176553090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262304176553090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262304176553090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262304176553090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/11/aaron.html' title='Aaron'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262705169930779</id><published>2005-10-10T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T18:37:31.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh my gosh... this weekend was crazy...Friday and Saturday was cool. We had this thing at church for the ladies there. It was kinda weird though, b/c it was like live television. and it's kinda weird when your used to the live stuff. oh, but sunday...it was crazier...I was going home to spend some time w/ my mom b/c it was her birthday. and i noticed my friend left her stuff in my car. so I was going to turn to return her stuff at church before she left there. and i got into an accident on the say to the church. i was so devistated. My car's front bumper is dented in now. (not like it wasn't already..b/c of my dad) and my left headlight is cracked and it occationally works. I'm sore but no major injuries that i know of. And what was worse my mom's birthday was Sunday (the day I got in the accident). Ever since the accident i've had random emotional breakdowns. it's been horrible. I don't know what's wrong with me. I didn't go to school today b/c of it...and plus...i was sore b/c of the accident. well, that was my weekend. not that proud of it. Well, I don't really have much to say...I'll write later...&lt;br /&gt;Lindsay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262705169930779?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262705169930779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262705169930779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262705169930779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262705169930779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/10/this-weekend.html' title='This Weekend'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262713878136529</id><published>2005-09-25T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T18:38:58.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfish People</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;color:#339999;"&gt;It amazes me at how selfish people can be. I'm not saying I'm not selfish, but I realize how selfish I am through other people's ways of living. Today, throughout all this disaster from hurricane Rita, people are yet to complain about not having cable, or even television, when there are others out there without any form of transportation, electricity, communication, or food. Even though right now, my mom is without a job, we have some damage to the fence, no air conditioning, no refrigeration or lights, I'm still thankful of what I do have. A comunity of friends, family, and neighbors who love me for who I am and what I'm about. Unfortunately, alot of times we focus on the material things we have when the abstract things are really what is important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262713878136529?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262713878136529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262713878136529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262713878136529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262713878136529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/09/selfish-people.html' title='Selfish People'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262280519305652</id><published>2005-09-23T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:26:45.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>About Death...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't know why I'm lead to write this or about this. But, I write what comes to my head, so maybe it's the holy spirit trying to tell me something. All of us are guilty of living life expecting the future. This hurrican (Rita) has really made me think. We spend so much time dreaming of what's to come here on earth, but little time on what would happen if we were to die at that instant. Maybe we all fear death to a certain extent. But for some odd reason, at this point in time. Surpristingly enough, I am at peace. And even though I'm excited to graduate, excited about going to college, excited about getting married (if i do), about starting a family of my own, even excited about started my career. I'm still okay with leaving it all behingd and dying. Earth isn't enough for me; I want God. I'm ready to meet him and talk to him and see my home in heaven. Now, whoever reads this...Don't worry...I don't plan on killing myself or anything.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262280519305652?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262280519305652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262280519305652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262280519305652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262280519305652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/09/about-death.html' title='About Death...'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262724048979293</id><published>2005-09-21T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T18:40:40.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Under God?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;We had a guest speaker in my Government class yesterday. And we talked about the main reason why the guy in California is trying to get "under God" out of the Pledge of Allegience. I don't know about anyone else but i couldn't be more against that. Yes, I am a Christian, but that has nothing to do with why i side w/ not taking it out. The Pledge of Allegiance is something that we have done throughout history. and yes, it's true that "under God" was added in the 1950's but that's still part of history, it is in the past. We need to respect that those who believe in God have the freedom to say that in the Pledge of Allegience. If you don't want to say that one phrase in the Allegience, you have the freedom not to. but for those of us who do so choose to say it, respect the fact that we want to do it. Atheists are trying to take God out of everything, but Christians have rights too. Realize that we would like to have the freedom to do things too. We want the freedom to not do things too. The goverment should take into consideration the minority's rights and the majority's rights. The government seems to only side one way or the other. We need to find a common ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262724048979293?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262724048979293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262724048979293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262724048979293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262724048979293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/09/under-god.html' title='&quot;Under God?&quot;'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113295353030200184</id><published>2005-07-29T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-25T13:18:50.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zoo Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010045.jpg" width="188" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px" height="126" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010047.jpg" width="179" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" height="155" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010048.jpg" width="237" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" height="184" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010050.jpg" width="237" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 159px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" height="149" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010051.jpg" width="197" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I returned home, my family went to the zoo (Jaime's wish). Here are some pictures that we took.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113295353030200184?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113295353030200184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113295353030200184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113295353030200184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113295353030200184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/07/zoo-pictures.html' title='Zoo Pictures'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113263070872441351</id><published>2005-07-20T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T19:38:28.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NASA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" height="154" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010023.jpg" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px" height="168" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010026.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 366px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px" height="269" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010035.jpg" width="351" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" height="195" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010027.jpg" width="257" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was working in Florida this summer we took a weekend off to go to orlando. We went to the Kennedy Space Center. We were going to get to see the launch, but it was cancelled because of the gas sensor was malfunctioning. So we didn't get to see it unfortunately. That would have been really awesome! The trip was a great trip. I enjoyed it. I hope I can go again this summer. Maybe I can convince my aunt to take me to DisneyWorld! :D probly not though, it's pretty expensive&lt;/em&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/19193359-113263070872441351?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113263070872441351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113263070872441351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113263070872441351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113263070872441351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/07/nasa.html' title='NASA'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113271140492956282</id><published>2005-07-05T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T18:03:24.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working @ FL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010044.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px" height="171" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010044.5.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010036.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px" height="139" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010036.5.jpg" width="223" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010043.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="144" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010043.5.jpg" width="206" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010042.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px" height="185" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010042.5.jpg" width="257" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010038.5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" height="184" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010038.5.jpg" width="253" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;These are pictures of the things I was around all day long while in Florida:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;1st picture: This was a picture of the roses that I worked with. I didn't get many pictures. Sorry guys! Maybe next summer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;2nd picture (Church): This was the church I played the piano at. I couldn't go somewhere without playing the piano for a month, so we found a church near Aunt Kathy and Uncle David's house that would let me play. I only played on the weekdays. I left work at 2:20 and immediately went to the church to practice. I would practice an hour or more there. The people there were exeptionally nice. It reminded me of Central Baptist Church; the church my dad pastored at before he left. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;3rd picture: these are more pictures of the roses. There was about 5 acres of just roses, I should've gotten closer &amp;amp; prettier pics of the roses, but i didn't. Again, maybe next year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;4th picture: This is a picture of Sassy. I've known her ever since she was welcomed into the Hollowell family. My Aunt Kathy used to live with us when I was young. She got her while she lived with us in Abilene, Texas. Her name is the best way to describe her. She used to get on Meggan's (my first dog) nerves and now Mystic gets on her nerves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;5th picture: This is Mystic (black dog). She is very friendly and playful. If you ever meet her, be careful about petting her. If you pet her once there's no getting rid of her until you leave. But that's a puppy for you, right?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113271140492956282?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113271140492956282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113271140492956282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113271140492956282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113271140492956282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/07/working-fl.html' title='Working @ FL'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262695748317437</id><published>2005-06-27T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T18:35:57.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;Throughout my life, I've had a problem with dealing with my fears. Fear can be a very controlling thing. Especially when your biggest fear is being controlled by fear. Sunday I talked to a very good friend of mine. And we were talking about guys, which is a normal subject with us. I've liked this guy for a real long time. and She asked me why i haven't let him know. And I couldn't come up with an answer. My denial of my fears made it worse. But, some of the things she said really got to me. And made me really think about alot of things. A book I'm reading about dating helped me to better understand what I was going through because there was a chapter in there about fears keeping you away from being yourself, which leads others away from you. I'm in Florida at the moment, so I haven't been able to talk to my friends barely at all. So i decided I would give another close friend a call. I talked to her and that was my next step to getting rid of my many fears. Last night, i was reading that book again, and I read a list of things that I would have to do to resolve me of my fears. First, you have to list out all of your fears; next, you need to rank your fears. After that you need to talk to a close friend that you know will listen and possibly went through the same thing. Then, you need to ask God to take care of it, and surrender to Him. Because without him you would have 100x more fear in your life. and if you continue with your fear it will gnaw on you like a beaver on wood. Some of us think that there's no turning back and that it's too late, but it's not. Not with God. But, you have to have faith that He will, otherwise it's not genuine. And just like salvation. It has to be 100% truthful. Yes, you will have to face your fear. Yes, you will have trouble, God promises you will. Yes, you will fail through this. But, at least you have hope. You have hope through God. It takes time but your fears will be resolved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262695748317437?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262695748317437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262695748317437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262695748317437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262695748317437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/06/fear.html' title='Fear'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262261048351151</id><published>2005-06-22T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:23:30.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homesick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It’s only been two days, and I’m already missing home. I’m having a great time. Aunt Kathy and I seem to be getting along as usual. Everyday I learn more about my family and things I know will be useful in the future. Believe it or not, seeing as my parents aren’t together, I really don’t get to observe the reality in marriage. It’s always been my dream to be married (like most people) and have 2 kids, a boy and a girl (I plan to have one/adopt the other…I’ll be sure that I’ll have a boy and a girl) And in my mind when I was younger, I imagined this perfect life with my spouse forever and ever like they show in the movies. I guess it takes a couple of times to realize things because I knew this. But I never grasped the concept. You and your significant other are going to annoy each other. But in the long run it’s okay because in the beginning where all this started, you and him share a common ground. You and him stood in frond of a pastor, a brother in Christ, and you and him made a beautiful promise that keeps you two together; through the think and thin you made a promise to you husband that you would try your best to love him, with God’s help of course, because you cannot do this by yourself. You’re also married to that person for a certain reason. God has a purpose for everything. He and you will learn things about each other and that’s the awesome part about it, most of the time. Another thing that I’ve realized is, it is so amazing at how God works things together. A couple years back, I wouldn’t have even imagined myself right here at Aunt Kathy and Uncle David’s’ house working at a rose farm. And from what Aunt Kathy says she didn’t visualize herself were she is now at the moment either. Sometimes God gives you things as planned, but sometimes he throws you a curveball, such as, where I am right now. And that’s what makes life so interesting.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262261048351151?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262261048351151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262261048351151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262261048351151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262261048351151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/06/homesick.html' title='Homesick'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113270433187051830</id><published>2005-06-18T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T16:05:31.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Single Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px" height="285" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/lindsay2.jpg" width="240" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/lindsay1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/jaime1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px" height="275" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/jaime1.jpg" width="199" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were the seperate pics that we took the same day (look @ the previous post) I hated showing the bottom of my feet, but oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113270433187051830?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113270433187051830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113270433187051830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113270433187051830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113270433187051830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/06/single-pics.html' title='Single Pics'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113263150105750315</id><published>2005-06-17T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T19:51:41.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My sister and Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/Pictogether1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" height="208" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/Pictogether1.0.jpg" width="280" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/together2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/together2.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/together3.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 167px" height="210" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/together3.0.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/together4.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 168px" height="201" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/together4.0.jpg" width="270" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/together5.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/together5.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are pictures that my sister and I took for Daddy's day! Isn't she so cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113263150105750315?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113263150105750315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113263150105750315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113263150105750315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113263150105750315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-sister-and-me.html' title='My sister and Me!'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113295909948861077</id><published>2005-06-14T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-25T14:51:39.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Camp Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="148" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010030.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" height="127" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010016.jpg" width="210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" height="133" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010020.jpg" width="210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010031.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010021.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010021.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113295909948861077?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113295909948861077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113295909948861077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113295909948861077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113295909948861077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/06/more-camp-pics.html' title='More Camp Pics'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262943245269616</id><published>2005-06-13T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T16:39:26.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Camp Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;Here are some pictures of Church Camp this year...i went camera happy this year...so there are like 50 more...i'm gunna try to get them up sometime...just a little later. So here are some of them&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/Dinner%20Group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="190" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/Dinner%20Group.jpg" width="196" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="177" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010006.jpg" width="256" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/Ashlyn%20and%20Kristen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="189" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/Ashlyn%20and%20Kristen.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010008.jpg" width="323" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="138" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010012.jpg" width="207" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262943245269616?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262943245269616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262943245269616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262943245269616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262943245269616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/06/camp-pics.html' title='Camp Pics'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262813150204881</id><published>2005-01-11T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T18:55:31.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pageant Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/blk&amp;wt04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" height="169" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/blk%26wt04.jpg" width="291" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are pictures that we took for the pageant. We needed one to go into the program. I chose&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/I3010005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 163px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px" height="190" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/I3010005.jpg" width="249" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the one where i was looking behind me into the camera.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262813150204881?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262813150204881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262813150204881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262813150204881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262813150204881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2005/01/pageant-pics.html' title='Pageant Pics'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262850883437197</id><published>2004-12-27T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T19:01:48.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 206px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" height="246" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/320/lindsay.jpg" width="230" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken right after Christmas. I had just gotten my digital camera and was playing around w/ it. Ain't it awesome ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262850883437197?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262850883437197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262850883437197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262850883437197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262850883437197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2004/12/this-picture-was-taken-right-after.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262245039733837</id><published>2004-12-02T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T17:20:50.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want to feel beautiful. I refuse to admit that is why I am going to be in the pageant because it's not. I don't want a panel of judges to tell me I'm beautiful, I just want one guy. One guy! One guy that thinks I'm normal, sure I can be kinda weird sometimes, but so can everyone else. So, what detracts them (guys) from me? What makes me not special enough to date? I have so many girls tell me that I'm pretty. I'm so pretty, why don't guys see that, why don't they want to date me? I'm tired of hearing that they are too afraid to ask me out on a date. I don't believe it anymore. I want the truth. Even if I can't handle it. I'm tired of all the depression, anger, lies and confusion.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262245039733837?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262245039733837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262245039733837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262245039733837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262245039733837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2004/12/beauty.html' title='Beauty'/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19193359.post-113262229090677906</id><published>2004-10-14T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T16:38:10.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#663333;"&gt;I really don't know where to start to tell you the truth. I'm just really angry at some things right now. I'm angry at the way some people are. The way Satan has drawn them into so many horrible things. Angry at how not only guys but girls degrade the opposite sex down to a piece of meat. Angry at how they do that and sets a chain reaction for the other to act like a piece of meat and try their best to add their own "seasonings," the ones that will fade and sour over time. Angry at how God tells us we need help and have yet to realize Satan tricks us into believing we don't want help at the moment, so we don't take others' advice. And continue to live a life full of lies. Lies that corupt our brain into sinning. So many little things have set that warning light off in our heads. That beings me to the point of disguist of how horible us humans can be. How easily we are lied to and how desprate we are to even slightly believe it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19193359-113262229090677906?l=rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/feeds/113262229090677906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19193359&amp;postID=113262229090677906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262229090677906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19193359/posts/default/113262229090677906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rubyslippersandtalkinglions.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-really-dont-know-where-to-start-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Lindsay Hollowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14777837707901594356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1104/1895/1600/lindsay2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
