<?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-18659479</id><updated>2012-01-01T04:27:18.321-05:00</updated><category term='too personal to explain'/><category term='reviews'/><category term='Ella'/><category term='politics'/><category term='financial demons'/><category term='rants'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='mental health'/><category term='grad school'/><category term='sunday musings'/><category term='theatre'/><category term='endings'/><category term='travel'/><category term='snapshots'/><category term='randomology'/><category term='family'/><category term='about me'/><category term='religion'/><category term='hotties'/><category term='feminine troubles'/><category term='pop culture'/><category term='dating'/><category term='race'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='love'/><category term='work'/><category term='physical health'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>She is able...</title><subtitle type='html'>"You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection."

                             --Buddha</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>461</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8332233588712329715</id><published>2011-05-19T12:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T12:41:05.807-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><title type='text'>So Unmotivated</title><content type='html'>I'm in that phase when I've worked really hard for a long time and accomplished one major component of my work. What happens in this phase is that I get really lazy...like sleep 10 hours a day lazy. Like spend hours on my computer and only have the discovery of a funny YouTube &lt;a href="http://somegreybloke.com/"&gt;animator&lt;/a&gt; to show for it lazy. Like knowing all the plot lines of "All My Children" lazy.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To some, this break seems well deserved. You spend days staying up very late and not eating well and of course you are going to crash when it's all over. However, to others...&lt;i&gt;namely me&lt;/i&gt;...what I am doing is postponing other work. Because of course there is other work. Work that is major and a component as well. Postponing this work means I end up creating the same conditions that caused me to exhaust myself in the first place. A vicious cycle I tell you. VICIOUS! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week I have a bit of an out. I just spent 48 hours with an EEG attached to my head. Goodness gracious, that took a lot out of me. But the electrodes are gone, my hair is clean. And now it's time to buckle down. I gotta get out of Harvard...I feel like my life has stopped and won't move forward until I graduate. That's for another post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's to a kick in the pants!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8332233588712329715?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8332233588712329715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8332233588712329715&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8332233588712329715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8332233588712329715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/05/so-unmotivated.html' title='So Unmotivated'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8340247320831715242</id><published>2011-04-28T16:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T16:14:37.203-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><title type='text'>About to talk about HeLa</title><content type='html'>This month's book club book is &lt;i&gt;The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks&lt;/i&gt;. Tonight is our meeting. I loved this book so much, I can't stand it. It has changed my view of so many things...it's hard to explain. I've been anxious to talk about this book for weeks. Finally, finally, it's going to be discussed.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now I'm getting scared. On the Meetup page, people are jokingly talking about bringing sangria because it's blood-like. Bringing cheese because it's "live cultures." I am so afraid that people are going to avoid the real issues of this book: racism, medical ethics, ignorance born of poverty, business manipulation. I'm also afraid because I'm the only black person in the group...&lt;i&gt;which is nothing new.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really hope people will be respectful. That they will not say stupid things. That they won't avoid the uncomfortable feelings by crude jokes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may sit near the door, just in case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8340247320831715242?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8340247320831715242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8340247320831715242&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8340247320831715242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8340247320831715242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/04/about-to-talk-about-hela.html' title='About to talk about HeLa'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8045573714866754013</id><published>2011-04-11T22:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T23:45:52.069-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><title type='text'>It's Not All About Him</title><content type='html'>I've realized that I've been writing a lot about my man and his woes. As with any personal writing, the writer's truth is the most subjective thing ever. I haven't really been using this blog to help me process my own stuff or share other, more positive news. I don't really know why. Perhaps I come here when I feel impotent to handle an issue on my own. When I don't know what action to take.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I could mention that I'm joining Weight Watchers. I need to lose 10 pounds and it was a very useful tool a couple of summers ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have so much grading to do...it's insane. It's the end of the semester, so everything is due. I'm so sick of dealing with people's crap through their papers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My family is going through some serious stuff right now...yet another situation I can do nothing about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just saw on the news the nuclear disaster in Japan has been rated as dangerous as the Chernobyl disaster. I have no words about how horrible that is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ella is good. She is a constant good. I can never forget that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so incredibly in love to one of the best men I have ever known. He is a good man...in his soul he is good. Despite what is happening right now, I am so lucky to have him in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have realized that I can't grade tonight. They are due tomorrow morning, but I can't do it. The students will live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh! There is a crazy bag lady that lives in my building and camps out in mailbox alcove, which happens to be right across the hall from my front door. She actually deserves her own post, so I'll write about her soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8045573714866754013?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8045573714866754013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8045573714866754013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8045573714866754013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8045573714866754013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/04/its-not-all-about-him.html' title='It&apos;s Not All About Him'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3001496256544966780</id><published>2011-04-11T22:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T22:47:28.473-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I Don't Know How to Help Him</title><content type='html'>I have so many papers to grade, but I'm so tired I can't even think about helping students write better...which is ironic because I'm very upset I can't help someone I care about more than anything. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My guy is going through some serious problems at work. This doesn't bode well...first financial woes, now this. Part of me is thinking...&lt;i&gt;what have I gotten myself into?&lt;/i&gt; But most of me wants to make it better I just don't know how. As far as I can figure, there are several factors at play.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I know nothing about his field. I have no connections to anyone who might be able to offer him another position.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He is a fiercely proud man. I think he'd be open to an opportunity I presented, but he'd be sensitive about me talking about his woes to someone else. &lt;i&gt;Thank goodness he has no access to this blog.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;His relationship to work is so very different than mine. He really enjoys what he does, but he is not passionate about it. He works to live, not lives to work. I'm used to dealing with people who have that type of relationship to their jobs. I'm surrounded by people who are getting &lt;i&gt;doctorate&lt;/i&gt; degrees to further their careers, for goodness' sake!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He's been having a lot of trouble at his current job...a dictatorial boss, reduced responsibilities. I asked if there could possibly be any justification for his treatment; he always explains it away. He's not a man to shirk his responsibility for his mistakes, but honestly, I have the hardest time believing that he has not done anything to bring this about. I have worked in extremely toxic places, but I can't wrap my brain around this. I wish he would be completely honest with me, but I'm not sure he's being completely honest with himself.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;It breaks my heart to hear such defeat in his voice. He told me that he almost up and quit today...I know the only reason he didn't was because of me. That he wanted to be responsible. Which I appreciate so much. But I don't want him to be unhappy because of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just don't know what to do. Especially if what I should do is let him do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3001496256544966780?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3001496256544966780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3001496256544966780&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3001496256544966780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3001496256544966780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-dont-know-how-to-help-him.html' title='I Don&apos;t Know How to Help Him'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-654811459730768623</id><published>2011-03-30T16:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T17:00:22.271-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Hypocrisy</title><content type='html'>I think I mentioned in a previous post how my boyfriend and I both have money issues...that is, we are bad with it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So right now, my boyfriend is going through some times and has to borrow money from me. Him: a working professional with benefits and a 401(k). Me: a grad student whose W-2 said she made $23,000 in 2010. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not upset that I am loaning him money. Because I love him and I want to do whatever I can to support him. But I am upset about something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One part of me is &lt;i&gt;pissed off. F&lt;/i&gt;or several reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;He doesn't seem to want to change his ways. He's always figured out a way out of no way, so why not enjoy life? At least this is what I perceive. The truth is he feels horrible about asking me for help.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He wasn't honest with me about how far in the hole he was...and how bad the consequences were. I know all of that is about shame, to which I can relate.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;His financial life now greatly influences mine. We have plans, but they can't happen if he doesn't change his relationship with finances.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I don't know if he understands of #3.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there is the other part of me that says...&lt;i&gt;Who the hell are you to be pissed? Have you not done the exact same thing, perhaps more than once? Stole from Peter to pay Paul? Buried your head in the sand when the bills come? Avoided collection calls?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to believe what makes me different from my boyfriend is I am not content with living this way. Living paycheck to paycheck is tired. And honestly, I am too old for that shyt. So, as hard as it is, I am trying to keep track of my expenses. Trying to not eat out just because I'm too tired to cook. Not use Zipcar when a bus will go to the same place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing is, I know he wants to live differently. He is actually not content with living the way he is. We want to change, we don't know how. We are definitely on the same page with that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I am really torn between being mad and feeling guilty...and it upsets me that I'm torn...which then makes me feel guiltier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But most of all, this whole situation makes me doubt...everything. This is the man I want to spend my life with, but not at the expense of my financial well-being. I may not have made a lot of progress, but I haven't gotten a collection call in years. I've not had any of my services turned off for lack of payment. I refuse to go back to that anxiety in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-654811459730768623?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/654811459730768623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=654811459730768623&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/654811459730768623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/654811459730768623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/03/hypocrisy.html' title='Hypocrisy'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1117044453210128121</id><published>2011-01-25T08:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T09:11:47.071-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><title type='text'>Mediocre</title><content type='html'>Through my &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/search/label/mental%20health"&gt;mental health challenges&lt;/a&gt; and my &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/search/label/grad%20school"&gt;love/hate relationship&lt;/a&gt; with Harvard, I have learned to build a strong support system. I've got a therapist, a psychopharmacologist, and an academic therapist. I've got a writing group and a committee of professors to move my work forward. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though my life has been amazingly wonderful and wonderfully amazing in the past few weeks, I've learned &lt;a href="http://brittplace.blogspot.com/"&gt;the hard way&lt;/a&gt; I cannot put all my happy eggs in one basket. I have to take care of all parts of me to feel self-assured and independent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The truth is, I didn't accomplish all I wanted to during this break in terms of my academic work. I am so close to completing a major milestone in my program, but I keep getting blocked. It's my usual mind-f*cking cocktail of procrastination, an unrealistic need for perfection, and the "significance" of this milestone I self-impose. Add to this feelings of failure and inadequacy because I'm &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; doing all I want to do and I get paralyzed in front of my computer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I met with my academic counselor yesterday. She reminded me of how I work best, the strategies I've used in the past to successfully manage my time, and how to reframe my thinking so I'm not so hard on myself. She also introduced to me a way to think about my goal setting that is not so hung up on a due date, and more attached to a daily time commitment. It's not that crazy a concept, but it's new to me, so I'm excited to try it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the things we discussed is how I see myself in relation to other people at Harvard. At Harvard, I think if myself as an average student, at best. I am very smart, but I'm not producing work that knock professors out of their seats. However, when I talk to other people about what I've accomplished, I realize I have done some great sh*t. It's not that I've done &lt;i&gt;better&lt;/i&gt; stuff than the non-Harvard people in my world...it's just not average, you know? It's far from average as a matter of fact. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know what else I realized while talking to my counselor? At Harvard, average equals mediocre in my mind. Even in my program where we profess to be all about support and never about competition, the hidden curriculum says otherwise. With every success a colleague celebrates, we all feel a little worse because we're not there yet. So to just be average...to just be moving along, is actually to be less than average. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a powerful realization because it helped me understand why I'm so adverse to being average. Average in a doctoral program at Harvard is no joke. I should be proud...&lt;i&gt;especially since this program hardly ever gives out "C"s, so average is an "A-." &lt;/i&gt;And if I can make all other parts of my life extraordinary while being here, then I'm doing a damn good job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1117044453210128121?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1117044453210128121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1117044453210128121&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1117044453210128121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1117044453210128121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/01/mediocre.html' title='Mediocre'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-6137418224294582456</id><published>2011-01-20T21:20:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T00:28:55.579-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Lessons from Our First Fight?</title><content type='html'>My guy and I had our first unpleasant conversation this evening. Boy, did I learn a ton. &lt;i&gt;I also need to come up with a good pseudonym for him. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lesson #1: I know what he sounds like when he's mad.&lt;/b&gt; I should clarify...he wasn't mad at me. He had a horrible day at work and needed to vent about corporate culture and his boss. He is a passionate man, so he really vented.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lesson #2: I have more testosterone than I thought. &lt;/b&gt;I fancy myself quite empathic and touchy-feely. I'm a &lt;i&gt;listener&lt;/i&gt;, for goodness' sake! That's like the highest compliment for a woman, is it not? &lt;i&gt;Kidding!&lt;/i&gt; However, some of my first responses were questions like: "What's the next step?" "What can I do to help you?" Basically, I turned into a dude and tried to fix it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lesson #3: He has more. &lt;/b&gt;It was kind of amazing how respectfully yet firmly he told me what he needed. It definitely wasn't me telling him what to do...not at that moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Lesson #4: I am not used to healthy disagreement. &lt;/b&gt;I've heard stories of what it's supposed to look like. I've studied it in the context of organizational behavior. But it is clear I will have to practice listening without taking it &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt; personally. I will have to practice arguing the issues and not the person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the most important lesson is &lt;b&gt;how &lt;i&gt;invested&lt;/i&gt; I am in him&lt;/b&gt;. I want him to be happy, really happy. I also want him to be employed, really employed. When he spoke of his urge to just walk out of the building and never look back, I was torn between empathy and fear.  I felt bad for him, but also felt quitting was not an option. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last lesson is ultimately about me projecting my own fears and lack of trust, along with my distorted views of money and work and self-esteem. He and I have plans as a couple, but they are in their infancy...&lt;i&gt;we &lt;/i&gt;are in our infancy. It is unhealthy and unwise to hold onto them so tight. I know I am important to him...I know our goals are important to him. I have to trust he won't jeopardize them, just like I won't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I write this, I'm also thinking investment is not all bad. He even acknowledged that I had a right to get pissed if he up and quit his job. I have to figure out for myself what makes sense at this point in our relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have more to write, but I have to go to bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-6137418224294582456?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/6137418224294582456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=6137418224294582456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6137418224294582456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6137418224294582456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/01/lessons-from-our-first-fight.html' title='Lessons from Our First Fight?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7881547589197899287</id><published>2011-01-17T17:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T18:04:12.053-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Love as Money Saver</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Since this &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/01/conflicted-conflicting.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;, my conflicting feelings have subsided and it is with a clarity I have never known that I know this is the man for my life. We tell each things we have never told another person; we are planning for a future neither of us had imagined. I don't just feel love from him...I feel support, passion, interest, awe, respect. I adore getting to know him...even the parts that annoy me. It is like reading the most fantastic book ever...where you are hungry for more but you don't want it to end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that is not the point of this post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I already sense a shift in my thinking, especially financially. We've spoken of our lack of money management skills. He's told me he's quite content having me control the finances. Though I first balked at the idea, I'm growing more excited by it. Money management has a different level of responsibility now; I'm kinda digging it. We want to travel. We will probably have to finance our own wedding since we're both &lt;i&gt;of a certain age&lt;/i&gt;. We don't want our children to feel the stress that comes from struggling. I don't mind taking more control. It perfectly aligns with my personal &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-financial-rock-bottom.html"&gt;goal&lt;/a&gt; for 2011.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I've become quite a creative tightwad. We go out for drinks, but we cook at home more. We find cheap ways to go skiing/snowboarding. We are establishing vacation funds. Saving money has never been so much fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It could be argued I should have had these clear goals before...and I did. But they weren't as exciting as they are now. I am creating an emergency fund so we can afford time off if I have to move for a job. I am saving for a Caribbean vacation to an island neither of us has ever been. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One would think getting in a relationship means that you spend &lt;i&gt;more&lt;/i&gt; money. Perhaps the difference is our age...we're both in our mid- to late-30s, so our priorities have shifted. And we already know that our lives are intertwined; my decisions affect him and vice versa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a wonderful feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7881547589197899287?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7881547589197899287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7881547589197899287&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7881547589197899287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7881547589197899287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/01/love-as-money-saver.html' title='Love as Money Saver'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7388469051751122561</id><published>2011-01-13T11:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T11:23:11.659-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Welcome Back?</title><content type='html'>I had a wonderful conversation with my friend last weekend. Not only did we catch up on each other's...&lt;i&gt;I wonder where one puts the apostrophe in this situation...&lt;/i&gt;lives, we talked things regarding our friendship and communication. I'm a big fan of doing that...sometimes I do it too much. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This conversation was initiated by the discovery that she had read a previous blog &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/12/how-i-am.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt;. Since it had been months since I last posted, I figured people had forgotten about this blog. Apparently, RSS feeds never die...I'd forgotten about that. So she saw I had written and read. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't regret what I wrote. It's my blog after all, though I do wish I'd had the wherewithal to tell my friend in person what I was feeling. A personal blog, more than any other use of the internet, really brings to the fore the tension between public and private, the responsibility of the anonymous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say this to say that if anyone has an RSS feed on this blog and has returned to it, then welcome back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7388469051751122561?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7388469051751122561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7388469051751122561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7388469051751122561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7388469051751122561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/01/welcome-back.html' title='Welcome Back?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2100098572614728931</id><published>2011-01-05T13:08:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T15:58:17.593-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Conflicted, Conflicting</title><content type='html'>I didn't have any high expectations for the holiday weekend. I was doing something I'd never done: snowboarding. And I was spending it with someone I'd never imagine I would: a new friend whom I've known since high school. I was looking forward to linking my turns, getting a good buzz on, and meeting some new people. That's about it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those things did indeed happen. But something much more took place. I met a guy...more than a guy. We were compatible from the moment we started dancing together. Not only does he say the right things, he does the right things. He is perfect for me in his imperfections. We are as different as we are similar and we don't seem to mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And he really likes me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean shut-down-his-eHarmony-profile, have-closing-conversations-with-women-he-was-seeing-before, make-my-picture-the-wallpaper-on-his-phone, introduce-me-to-his-best-friend likes me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I just relax and enjoy it, it's wonderful. Full of laughter and conversation and passion. I don't tell many people when I'm dating someone, because it usually blows up in my face and I don't like dealing with the subsequent questions. I have no problem actually lying to my friends when they ask about my love life. But when I am relaxing and enjoying, I want to scream about this from the rooftops. I want to introduce him to everyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there are many times when I question. Think about how easy it is to say and do all he as said and done. Wonder what it is he isn't telling me, even as he shares things he hardly tells anyone. Realize how stupid it is to be so into a man I've known less than a week. It is then I bite my tongue when I think about telling anyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean it is really silly for us to feel like teenagers when we're well into our 30s (he's one year older than me). And yet...we feel like teenagers when we're well into our 30s, you know? I haven't felt this mutual giddiness in a very long while. I think about him all the time...do you know how long it's been since I've thought about any man all the time? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now, I'm conflicted between staying in the moment and being "realistic." Because for some reason, those two things are not the same. Even though this &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; my reality. It seems as though staying in the moment equals losing myself. I wonder why I can't feel blissful without feeling a bit untethered.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll see...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2100098572614728931?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2100098572614728931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2100098572614728931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2100098572614728931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2100098572614728931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2011/01/conflicted-conflicting.html' title='Conflicted, Conflicting'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8042259185636992985</id><published>2010-12-29T11:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T11:31:55.128-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>How I Am</title><content type='html'>I'm having a great holiday season. Tons of parties, tons of food, tons of drinking...&lt;i&gt;luckily all in potluck form so I'm not spending any money&lt;/i&gt;. Laughter, stories, bonding. For instance, I had one of the best days of my life with my friend: A day of skiing, two bottles of wine, Indian food, and talking into the night by the fire.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;And &lt;/i&gt;my sister had another MRI yesterday. This time it was to take a picture of her spine to establish a baseline...do you understand what that means? That means they expect her spine to deteriorate and they need a "before" picture so they can see how bad the "afters" get. That idea twists my heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So though I'm having a good time, I talk about my sister's disease a lot. People know about it. They ask me about it. Even the one friend who still checks in on this blog (Thanks, darlin'), she checks in on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But there is one person in particular that I haven't heard from at all. She was the first person I called, sobbing uncontrollably. And all I've gotten is a Merry Christmas voicemail last week...which I returned and she hasn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is something I've always wondered...does my strength and joviality imply I don't need support? I would think old friends, who have seen me at my weakest, would know I am not always that way. I would also think that even if they thought I was doing okay, they would check in to find out anyway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lessons #1-25 babillion: one can't control the actions of others; one can only control oneself. So I want to figure out how I can get the support from people that's right for me. I could just ask, but having a "conversation" about how I'm not getting what I need makes the issue about my friend when...honestly...it should be about me. There have been so many conversations we've had for hours where we've just talked about her job/life/boy situations. Don't get me wrong, I &lt;i&gt;love &lt;/i&gt;those talks, and it's not like it's the only type of conversations we have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;She&lt;/i&gt; does call me when she wants to talk, so in a way she is asking for help. But I don't know if I need to &lt;i&gt;talk&lt;/i&gt; about my sister's MS per say. I guess I just need to know that my friends are thinking of me and care about how I'm doing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's not very much to need. Maybe I shouldn't be that upset over the absence of a phone call or two. Or maybe I do need to talk it out and I just don't know it. Perhaps a well-placed phone call would release a floodgates of emotions that would stop the achy, twisted feeling in my heart. I mean, I'm reusing this old ass blog no one reads anymore, so I must have something to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know...perhaps this whole idea exhausts me. Sometimes I get tired being proactive, of being the person to say what everyone is thinking but no one is willing to say. That's probably not going to stop, though, so what changes should I make?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just want someone to read my mind every once in a while....&lt;i&gt;I just read that sentence and it cracked me up! &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8042259185636992985?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8042259185636992985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8042259185636992985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8042259185636992985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8042259185636992985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/12/how-i-am.html' title='How I Am'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3821943362049619833</id><published>2010-12-22T00:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T01:14:00.271-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><title type='text'>My Sister's Disease...</title><content type='html'>...is always on my mind. Always. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong, my family and I are definitely living our lives. I'm overeating and overdrinking as I celebrate the holidays with friends. I'm writing up my research in my office every day. My mom is prepping the house for Christmas, my stepdad is working too much, and my other sister is wrapping up another semester of teaching.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it is still there: my sister has MS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whenever I pause and contemplate it, I cry. On the spot. I talked to the other sister about it, and she says the same thing happens to her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a therapy session of sorts with my doctor. She assured me I don't have MS and what I'm doing is mourning...mourning the death of the future I envisioned for my sister. Not to say that she won't conquer the world (you will totally know her name), but it won't be a completely healthy future. She might have a flare up and temporarily go blind, or lose feeling in her limbs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know how with some diseases there is a possibility of a worst case scenario, but it's always a slight one? With MS, temporary blindness isn't even the worst case scenario; neither is loss of mobility. They are just par for the course. In fact, my sister's specialist said that the eye problems that led to her diagnosis will &lt;i&gt;probably&lt;/i&gt; come back. It's possible that it might be worse. It is also possible that her flare-ups will be few and far between; and one might never know if one spends any time with my sister.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's the sucky part...all of it is &lt;i&gt;possible&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Except for her not having MS...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3821943362049619833?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3821943362049619833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3821943362049619833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3821943362049619833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3821943362049619833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-sisters-disease.html' title='My Sister&apos;s Disease...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1906048525742247345</id><published>2010-12-17T03:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T03:26:39.409-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><title type='text'>To Thine Own Self Be True?</title><content type='html'>I wonder...if I am already a "type" of person - especially when in a relationship - should I try and buck the trend? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ultimately this is a futile question...of course I'm going to if I'm not happy. I guess the real question becomes: can I be happy as a different "type?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1906048525742247345?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1906048525742247345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1906048525742247345&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1906048525742247345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1906048525742247345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/12/to-thine-own-self-be-true.html' title='To Thine Own Self Be True?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7312037705074914862</id><published>2010-12-14T19:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T20:08:28.427-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><title type='text'>My Financial Rock Bottom</title><content type='html'>So this semester I didn't make enough money. It's true that I spent too much, but it is also true that I didn't make enough. I moved into an apartment that was $400 more a month than before, the rent I am charging for the apartment I own stopped covering its costs, and my social life exploded. So now I'm doing more than living paycheck to paycheck...I'm paycheck to before paycheck. I honestly don't know how I'm going to make it until the last two weeks of January when my student loans kick in. Combine this with the fact that I am solidly in my 30s and I am thoroughly done. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My relationship with money has always been fucked up, but that can no longer be an excuse. There wasn't much beneficial about being with Ex, but he made me hardcore about money. I was actually saving! So 2011 is the year I face my fears. I may even bring this up with my therapist. I've added another job and I'm going to budget my ass off. It's going to make me feel inadequate and unpopular and lonely and scared, but I'm going to have a bank account that's not always going down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7312037705074914862?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7312037705074914862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7312037705074914862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7312037705074914862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7312037705074914862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-financial-rock-bottom.html' title='My Financial Rock Bottom'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7021101605060584559</id><published>2010-10-31T23:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T23:21:48.152-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday musings'/><title type='text'>Hate to Be That Person</title><content type='html'>I've recently discovered I'm becoming that woman who is so afraid of becoming involved with someone that I am rationalizing my fear by coming up with excuses to avoid putting myself out there..."I'm too busy." "It's exhausting." "They're all idiots."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am also repeating my pattern of trying to maintain a friendship to a man who is unworthy. I can let him go, but I don't think I want to let him off the hook. And so, I cut off my nose to spite my face. Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7021101605060584559?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7021101605060584559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7021101605060584559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7021101605060584559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7021101605060584559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/10/hate-to-be-that-person.html' title='Hate to Be &lt;i&gt;That&lt;/i&gt; Person'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4149850440898452152</id><published>2010-09-20T01:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T01:34:32.764-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>I've Been Thinking About You...</title><content type='html'>I haven't had the urge to write on this blog in months and months, but I discovered today that someone else has a private blog...one which I cannot ask to read. So maybe I'm jealous...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4149850440898452152?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4149850440898452152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4149850440898452152&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4149850440898452152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4149850440898452152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2010/09/ive-been-thinking-about-you.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Thinking About You...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4051419383849089853</id><published>2009-06-17T10:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T10:35:02.241-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too personal to explain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>People Got Me Thinking</title><content type='html'>I just got an email from a friend of mine where she talked about major shifts happening in her life. It was inspirational, really. And I could relate to a lot of it, which made me feel validated somehow.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, as I've pointed out on this blog &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-habits-are-hard-to-start.html"&gt;before&lt;/a&gt;, I've been trying to be more private in order to learn how to take care of my thoughts and feelings by myself. I feel more independent, more alive when I am successful at it. And it occurred to me that having a blog on the World Wide Web where I post said thoughts and feelings was antithetical to my mission.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been thinking about shutting down this blog for a while now. I guess before now my approach was like a cowardly, loser male: just stop calling and eventually she'll get the hint. But I'd like to believe I'm braver than that, so I want to officially end this part of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My other friend told me that "God puts people in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime." I don't dig the God part, but the rest of it has been pretty freeing for me in regards to letting go of stuff. So I'm saying goodbye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to all those who supported this venture, either through comments or just by reading.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4051419383849089853?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4051419383849089853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4051419383849089853&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4051419383849089853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4051419383849089853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/06/people-got-me-thinking.html' title='People Got Me Thinking'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8576339143148196056</id><published>2009-05-28T20:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T21:14:26.076-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>I'm Moving...Again</title><content type='html'>Guess what? I'm moving again. This will be the third apartment since I've moved back to Boston. Yes, that's right...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;third&lt;/span&gt;. One would think that I would be fazed by this development. Surprisingly I'm not. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps it's because of the reasons behind this move. They are as follows:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. My landlord is going to increase the rent. It's not by much, but it's enough to push it past the tipping point of "not worth it." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. The apartment has been having some issues as of late. Mold on the bathroom ceiling, kitchen sink plumbing on its last leg, basement overflowing with years of tenants' junk. The problem is that my landlord has said that she was going to fix these things for months and never has. Annoying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Finally, I found out last week that this house is in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;preforeclosure&lt;/span&gt;. The process began in February. The thing is, I didn't find out via our landlord; I found out on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;. Not cool. Not cool at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm out. Even if the process takes a while, I just don't want to be anywhere near this because I'm at the bottom of the housing totem pole, which means I'll get shafted. I've already found a great apartment in my same neighborhood. It's $75/month cheaper with a fabulous kitchen, a huge room, and only one additional roommate. And it has a dishwasher! I'll be living with a dishwasher for the first time in my life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8576339143148196056?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8576339143148196056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8576339143148196056&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8576339143148196056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8576339143148196056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-movingagain.html' title='I&apos;m Moving...Again'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2492902495814648285</id><published>2009-05-13T16:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:28:55.719-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Never Mind</title><content type='html'>So I found out later that day that my grandma is fine. She gained movement on her right side and she can talk and eat on her own. Why am I surprised? Like I mentioned before, she's as strong as an ox. She's recovered from other strokes, I don't know why I would think she wouldn't recover from this one. Did I mention she's 93? So it's all good now. I'm making plans to visit her in a couple of weeks. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Goodness gracious, I'm going to live to be 105.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2492902495814648285?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2492902495814648285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2492902495814648285&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2492902495814648285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2492902495814648285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/05/never-mind.html' title='Never Mind'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-185921603923582238</id><published>2009-05-11T12:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T13:12:52.452-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><title type='text'>Space Cadet</title><content type='html'>These have not been the best of times for me. Granted, these aren't the worst I've seen, but they have been pretty rough. I'm feeling relatively good emotionally, though physically I've been plagued with some vague but real symptoms. I'm thinking they are due to the stress of the end of the semester, but I'm seeing a doctor just in case.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, however, I'm completely out of it. I found out that my grandmother had a massive stroke yesterday. She's had a bunch in her life, but this one was the most severe: she is paralyzed on one full side of her body. She can't eat on her own because the thing in the throat that moves over to let food go down the wrong pipe isn't working. She is breathing on her own, however. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The worst part about it is that she is fully alert, even though she can't move and can't talk. This is very bad for her because she has always been a fiercely independent woman; she's also extremely stubborn. My dad says that she keeps trying to talk and trying to move and is getting very frustrated with her inability to do so. I'm very upset by this news. This should be expected, I know, but it surprises me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We knew this was going to happen. After her first stroke about four years ago, the doctors told my dad that it was the beginning of the end. Her brain and her body were shutting down. She would slowing stop remembering words, faces. Then her brain would stop remembering how to take care of itself. At the time, we thought that whole process would happen quickly. Four years later, she's still here. Which made me think that she would be here for quite a while longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never been very close to my grandma. I know she loves me, but every time I saw her, she criticized me. Getting to know each other wasn't really high on our priority list. I don't feel guilty about that, but right now, I am aching for her. That she is aware of her inability to move or talk must be torturous for her. The woman has been incredibly strong for more than 90 years; now her body has stopped cooperating.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm spending the afternoon staring at my computer screen, trying to do work, and talking on the phone. What I really want to do is take a nap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-185921603923582238?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/185921603923582238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=185921603923582238&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/185921603923582238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/185921603923582238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/05/space-cadet.html' title='Space Cadet'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-550084931830419084</id><published>2009-04-26T22:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T22:40:02.889-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Don't Tell Anyone</title><content type='html'>I feel comfortable saying this here because few of my friends from school know about this blog. Those that do know will probably agree with me! I've been feeling this way for some time, but it really came to a head this weekend...in a nutshell, my Harvard friends are boring!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know, I shouldn't be surprised. It is Harvard after all, mecca to the academic nerd. But last year, when we were all starting out, we partied like rock stars! Our weekends started on Thursdays: we went to happy hours, went dancing, saw plays and concerts, saw friends do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;improv&lt;/span&gt;, hosted parties, went to parties.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But something has changed. This year, we barely see each other. A person will throw a party...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on Saturday night, mind you&lt;/span&gt;...and people will bail because "they have too much work." Now, I go to the same school they do and I can't imagine having so much work that you can't go to a party on a Saturday night!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't realize how strong my feelings were around this issue until this weekend. Friday was a beautiful day; Friday night was a beautiful night. I wanted to go out, but decided to stay in to catch up on some personal stuff. I did this specifically thinking that Saturday night there will be a bunch of people wanting to rock the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;casbah&lt;/span&gt;. Saturday night, my friend performed in a concert and invited me to meet up with some people at a bar. Perfect! I'll catch up with friends, we'll enjoy the night by going bar hopping in Harvard Square...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very easy to do on a warm Saturday night&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What happened?  Absolutely nothing! We sat in a very lame bar...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;which did have $3 glasses of wine&lt;/span&gt;...talking shop and then everyone left at 11pm. I couldn't believe it! Boston has had miserable weather since forever. This is the first time in months when it's been warm for more than 12 hours, and everyone is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tired&lt;/span&gt;?!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What really drove it home was I went to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bbq&lt;/span&gt; this afternoon at the home of a very old friend of mine. He and his family had about 20 people over: couples, single folk, kids, everybody. I met some really cool and funny people. As the night wore on and the families went home, there were about 10 people who still wanted to stay up talking and drinking and enjoying the fact that we were outside. After 7 hours, I finally left. You see? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;That's &lt;/span&gt;what I'm talking about. People who can put all this schoolwork shit in perspective and realize life is too short not to honor Mother Nature for granting us this great weekend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say, I don't miss living in NYC in the least. It's far too crowded and fast and jaded for me at this point in my life. But I will say that New Yorkers know how to enjoy good weather. If I were back in the city, I know I would be out with old friends and/or meeting new ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah well...it is the choice I made. I'm thinking however, as I enter my third year of my doctoral program next fall, and don't have as many classes to tie me to the campus, that I'm going to really branch out and find friends with whom I connect on more than just the Harvard level...because that level is pretty uneven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-550084931830419084?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/550084931830419084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=550084931830419084&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/550084931830419084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/550084931830419084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-tell-anyone.html' title='Don&apos;t Tell Anyone'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4069351791521572863</id><published>2009-04-16T13:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T13:52:55.729-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too personal to explain'/><title type='text'>Something I Love...</title><content type='html'>I am slowly but surely falling in love with keeping things to myself. I have to say it's very fun to be my own confidant. It also makes me feel stronger.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't say more because I'm keeping it to myself! So fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a random note: I was thinking back on all the guys I dated in my life...and goodness gracious, some of them were losers! I wonder what I was thinking back then. Being single is SO much better than hanging out with those wackos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah...did I mention I'm doing pretty well with my year of being single? I had a close call in February and March...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Murphy's Law kicking in...&lt;/span&gt;but it's not going to work out. I am actually coming to enjoy enjoying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;singledom&lt;/span&gt;. I'm discovering that I spent SO much energy searching...just looking for that someone, that something that would supposedly make me whole. I didn't realized how tired I was until I stopped doing it. I'm still flirting and having crushes, but they serve as pure entertainment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good times!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4069351791521572863?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4069351791521572863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4069351791521572863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4069351791521572863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4069351791521572863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/something-i-love.html' title='Something I Love...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4874185860378523240</id><published>2009-04-13T18:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T18:34:33.957-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><title type='text'>Damn...</title><content type='html'>...I've got to get my financial house in order. I feel like I'm moving eight steps back than where I was two years ago. True, I had a full time job then, but still! There are still steps I can take to get on track. I'm getting too old for this shyt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4874185860378523240?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4874185860378523240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4874185860378523240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4874185860378523240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4874185860378523240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/damn.html' title='Damn...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2922627486970730792</id><published>2009-04-07T01:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T01:04:40.590-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>I Held a 4-Hour-Old Tonight</title><content type='html'>'Nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2922627486970730792?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2922627486970730792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2922627486970730792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2922627486970730792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2922627486970730792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-held-4-hour-old-tonight.html' title='I Held a 4-Hour-Old Tonight'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5664644895137949365</id><published>2009-04-06T11:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T11:56:51.887-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><title type='text'>Change of Plans</title><content type='html'>I woke up today with a specific plan. Much of that plan had to do with tricking myself to get things accomplished...something I learned last week when I had my first appointment with my new academic advisor/therapist...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;long story that I'll explain later&lt;/span&gt;. I was going to put on my gym clothes before I went to my office hours so that I could head straight to the gym. I was going to spend my time during a meeting working on another paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all that has changed...my very good friend is having a baby today, so all I have to do is be there for her. Simple, to the point, no tricks involved. Wish her luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5664644895137949365?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5664644895137949365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5664644895137949365&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5664644895137949365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5664644895137949365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/change-of-plans.html' title='Change of Plans'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4822355423817105009</id><published>2009-04-04T21:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T21:43:58.118-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reviews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too personal to explain'/><title type='text'>One More Day</title><content type='html'>The house guest is here for only one more day...SO excited. I'm also dealing with some personal and personnel issues so I have to remind myself of the decisions I made earlier in the year. I need to trust myself more than I doubt myself.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must say I am proud of myself. Last night was a bad one, but instead of moping in my sweats, I dressed up and went to my school's semi-formal dance. It ended up being a really good time and it meant a lot to the organizers that I was there, since I worked with them during the academic conference I helped organize. I think it made all the difference in my mood for the rest of the weekend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now, I'm watching &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Key Largo&lt;/span&gt; (1948) on TV. I want to be better than it is...there's just a lot of speechifying going on. I'm not complaining however; there is no one in the apartment right now except for Ella and me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wheuheu&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/18659479-4822355423817105009?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4822355423817105009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4822355423817105009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4822355423817105009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4822355423817105009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-more-day.html' title='One More Day'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5951527382134219682</id><published>2009-04-01T17:14:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T19:24:53.575-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Yup...Still Here</title><content type='html'>At this point, I'm seeing the dude more than I see my roommate! I sent an email to her letting her know that I want the living room this Friday night. I was so passive aggressive that I'm a bit ashamed. I said that I know her man like to "veg out" in the living room and so I asked that he not be there. How sad that I have to reserve time in my own living room...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ADDENDUM: It's done! He broke an antique glass jar that I've owned for like 5 years. It was the perfect place to store sugar because it's airtight. This dude needs to go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5951527382134219682?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5951527382134219682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5951527382134219682&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5951527382134219682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5951527382134219682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/04/yupstill-here.html' title='Yup...Still Here'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5607191455712966557</id><published>2009-03-31T21:39:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T21:58:02.138-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Sound Advice</title><content type='html'>For those of you with roommates - regardless if you get along with him/her or not - hosting a house guest for a week and a half is TOO LONG!!! Especially if that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;house guest&lt;/span&gt; is your boy/girlfriend. Especially if that house guest is a complete slug on vacation who barely leaves the house.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your roommate will feel like he/she is intruding no matter how often you say, "No! It's fine!" Your roommate will only feel comfortable in his/her room and will resent you for it. Not to say that you are responsible for the feelings of your roommate, but I'm just letting you know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Worst off, your roommate will feel like he/she is living in the kitchen of the McDonald's of your relationship. He/She will see and hear things that make him/her sick, and can't do anything about it. He/She will notice how your girl/boyfriend is a complete baby who can barely do anything without you. Your roommate will get first hand experience with how grumpy your girl/boyfriend is in the morning. Your roommate isn't sleeping with your houseguest...he/she shouldn't have to deal with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pissy&lt;/span&gt; person that's not you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, next time you present the idea to your roommate that you want someone to stay with you for a long time, be aware that he/she will say, "Of course, it's fine!" But your roommate will really mean, "Oh God, no!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you cannot do anything about the extended visit, make it clear to your guest that he/she must try to get the hell out of the house every once in a while. That your roommate doesn't want to see your guest's face EVERY time your roommate comes home, no matter what time of the day or night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feel free to ignore this advice...but at your own peril.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5607191455712966557?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5607191455712966557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5607191455712966557&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5607191455712966557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5607191455712966557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/03/sound-advice.html' title='Sound Advice'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4125339551765839269</id><published>2009-03-27T11:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T11:25:16.224-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>I Gotta Tell Someone</title><content type='html'>Okay...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So for the next week, my roommate's boyfriend is here visiting. He's not just any boyfriend. They have been together five years; he used to live in this apartment with my roommate when he was getting his Ph.D.; they have had a long distance relationship for the past two years while he's working on the West Coast. They see each other maybe once every two months. So I do not begrudge my roommate having some quality time with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This apartment is indeed spacious, but it is clearly a two-bedroom. When someone is sitting at the kitchen table, they are taking up a lot of space, not to mention the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;counter top&lt;/span&gt; since we have none. There is only one bathroom with two hooks for towels. There is one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;. You see what I mean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I can get anal about some things...I admit that. One of those things is putting objects back in their place. Especially when space is limited, I am a stickler for returning food back to the pantry, throwing away trash left on the table, putting dirty dishes in the sink and not leaving them on the coffee table. Granted, the dishes don't have to be washed for days, just as long as they are getting crusty and moldy &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in the sink&lt;/span&gt;. And I admit, I don't have much patience with regard to this. That is, I want things in their rightful place right away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boyfriend is clearly not a stickler for these things. So last night, while they were out at dinner, I put things away: dishes, paper towels, food. This morning, I woke up, walked Ella and went back up to my room to do work. They woke up and he started bitching that he couldn't find his coffee that he left on our limited counter space and I returned to the pantry. They thought I was gone, so they were talking at a normal voice and I could hear ever word they were saying. And I very distinctly heard him call me a "psycho bitch." My roommate - always the compassionate one - said, "No, no. She's not a psycho bitch." That made me laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just went downstairs to get some cereal. My roommate was still home and expressed surprise that I was still in the house. I told her that I had been here the whole morning and had been wide awake the entire time. The song beneath my words said that I heard everything they said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now I don't have to be nice to him anymore. I won't be a "psycho bitch" or anything, but now I don't have to deal with him if I don't want to. I can enter my house and pretend he's not there. Which is what I wanted to do anyway, I just didn't want to be rude. Now I have an excuse. I am a psycho bitch after all. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4125339551765839269?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4125339551765839269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4125339551765839269&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4125339551765839269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4125339551765839269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-gotta-tell-someone.html' title='I Gotta Tell Someone'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4830902533073092279</id><published>2009-03-22T19:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T19:59:30.649-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday musings'/><title type='text'>New Habits are Hard to Start</title><content type='html'>As I mentioned previously, I'm working on making some changes in my life. I don't mean to be cryptic, but honestly, I'm not clear about what those changes are. I'm not clear on where I'm going, but I do know where I don't want to be anymore. The thing is it's hard to break those habits; I find myself falling back into my old ways of being. They weren't dangerous or self-destructive, but they are not making me as happy as I thought they would. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just want to be quieter and simpler. I want to be more private and secretive. I want think more before I speak and think more without speaking. Whenever I am able to be this way, it feels wonderful. I just need to do it more often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4830902533073092279?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4830902533073092279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4830902533073092279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4830902533073092279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4830902533073092279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-habits-are-hard-to-start.html' title='New Habits are Hard to Start'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5206584274672668208</id><published>2009-03-14T10:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T10:41:28.461-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><title type='text'>Eh.</title><content type='html'>I know it's been quite a while since I've posted anything. Which is weird to me because the last time I went through a major depression, I wanted to tell the internet absolutely everything. This time, however, I'm working on making some changes in my life at the fundamental level, not just around the depression. I'm still sorting it out, but I think it has to do with keeping more things close to the vest. My new mantra is "I don't have to be 'on'." &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another reason that I haven't posted is because I was incredibly busy this semester putting together an academic conference. This conference is one of two student-run conferences that my school sponsors. The focus is on issues of race and inequality in education. It happens every year and this year we had record turn-out with people coming from Jamaica, Canada, Kenya, Ethiopia and many other countries. I actually do wish I had documented that journey; it was the most important thing I've ever accomplished, second only to buying my apartment. This was bigger than actually getting into Harvard. The nadir of my depression fell right in the middle of the process, so that was a very interesting thing for me to maneuver as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I would like to say that I will post more, but I don't know if I will. I'm not really into blogging right now, but I'm also not ready to shut this one down. I'm just going to wait and see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5206584274672668208?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5206584274672668208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5206584274672668208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5206584274672668208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5206584274672668208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/03/eh.html' title='Eh.'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-9164735403041727843</id><published>2009-02-05T19:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:27:16.475-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too personal to explain'/><title type='text'>People are Strange</title><content type='html'>I've been avoiding people lately. I can't really deal with most of them in my current state. I'm spending a lot of time with my lovely Ella and watching movies. Every time I think about getting to know someone new, it backfires. Which only confirms my initial instinct to stay away from people.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In other news, I am officially a medication soup. I have a psycho-pharmacologist now and she is helping me find the right anti-depressant. I've decided that I want to take one for a while...not just until I'm "better." So the quest becomes that much more arduous because I have to find one that will do the job for the long-term and not give me bad side effects. Add to this the fact that you can't just stop one drug and start another cold turkey, and I am acting like an elderly person: take one pill at night, one pill in the morning, take one pill for two weeks then increase it to two pills for two weeks. Crazy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-9164735403041727843?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/9164735403041727843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=9164735403041727843&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/9164735403041727843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/9164735403041727843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/02/people-are-strange.html' title='People are Strange'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7238573953833393673</id><published>2009-01-26T20:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T09:36:36.109-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Trippy!</title><content type='html'>I just spent an hour reading old posts of this blog...what a trip! It's weird to read what ideas have stayed consistent and how I've totally changed my view of others. I was reminded that Ella and I have been together three years this month and that my major depression after Ex happened in the fall of 2005. I read about my 32nd birthday and how happy I was that I still had three years before I turned 35...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this year I turn 35&lt;/span&gt;. I read about my love for TM and my crush on Channing Tatum. &lt;div&gt;It's weird to have a journal that is categorized and has spell check.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7238573953833393673?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7238573953833393673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7238573953833393673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7238573953833393673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7238573953833393673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/01/trippy.html' title='Trippy!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7023000423275913812</id><published>2009-01-18T16:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T09:36:53.973-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><title type='text'>Patience, L. Britt...Patience</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here in my one-bedroom apartment in San Juan, Puerto Rico. The sun has been shining all day and there is not a cloud in the sky. &lt;div&gt;And yet...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't left the house all day. I've slept for 12 hours and I'm exhausted. I ate a turkey sandwich because my stomach was cramping but I barely tasted it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to quit school, I want to quitthis  life...just move someplace else and try to find a job as an administrative assistant or maybe work in retail. But my therapist tells me I'm not supposed to make any major life decisions while I'm in this state. So I'm stuck passing in another final late.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate this so much!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7023000423275913812?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7023000423275913812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7023000423275913812&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7023000423275913812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7023000423275913812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/01/patience-l-brittpatience.html' title='Patience, L. Britt...Patience'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5263887691845186996</id><published>2009-01-09T18:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T19:03:44.674-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>My New Blog Layout...</title><content type='html'>...is really bright, no?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had 7 things on my depression to-do list today. As part of my treatment, the things I'm expected to accomplish get MUCH simpler. These may be simple, but it takes all my energy to do them, believe you me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;1. Shower&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2. Go to gym&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3-5. Walk (not just let out) Ella at least three times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;6. Grade at least half the papers for the class I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TF&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;7. Eat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've done 1, 2, 3, 4, and 7. I'm working on 6. now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5263887691845186996?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5263887691845186996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5263887691845186996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5263887691845186996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5263887691845186996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-new-blog-layout.html' title='My New Blog Layout...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2712545172110539375</id><published>2009-01-08T09:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T20:19:54.007-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><title type='text'>Second Extension</title><content type='html'>I just wrote to the second of my professors asking for an extension on a final paper. I am so, so, so mad at myself about that, but as EVERYONE in my life has told me, I am very hard on myself, so I'm trying to cut myself some slack. The thing is I'm very bad at being kind to myself. I feel like I'm just copping out. I'm just going to try to be proud of the fact that I asked for help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2712545172110539375?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2712545172110539375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2712545172110539375&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2712545172110539375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2712545172110539375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/01/second-extension.html' title='Second Extension'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8930062677122464260</id><published>2009-01-05T17:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:49:35.212-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><title type='text'>Here We Go Again</title><content type='html'>I think I know the moment it really started: I was walking home from dropping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tuckergurl&lt;/span&gt; off at the subway Saturday morning. This incredible sadness swept over me. I went back to bed and woke up in the afternoon.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I then proceeded to spend the rest of the weekend on the couch. I tried to do work, to absolutely no avail. I was too tired to eat, too tired to cry, although the sadness had seeped into my bones. But Sunday night, I knew I needed help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I called Harvard's mental health services and had an emergency appointment. The woman who saw me seemed completely overwhelmed by me...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not the way to make one feel better, I must say&lt;/span&gt;...but she did remind me to start taking life in much smaller chunks. And she helped me admit I'm in the throes of another depressive episode.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here we go again. I'm too "in it" to try and figure out what caused it, but I'm sure I'll come up with something. For the first time, I'm considering going on medication because I feel like I need some emotional consistency...more than I can get on my own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, my day is done. Time to eat something...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;though I am not hungry at all!...&lt;/span&gt;and get some sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8930062677122464260?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8930062677122464260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8930062677122464260&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8930062677122464260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8930062677122464260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/01/here-we-go-again.html' title='Here We Go Again'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8331383352609841525</id><published>2009-01-03T22:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T17:36:24.045-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><title type='text'>It's a New Year?</title><content type='html'>I know it's 2009 and all, but for the life of me I don't feel renewed, rejuvenated, re-anything. The only dates I'm thinking about are all the due dates for my assignments and of course, January 14&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. That's the day I leave for my first solo vacation. &lt;div&gt;I went back and look at my postings on this blog from last January. I'm pleasantly surprised to report that I have made good on my goal to not get complacent. I have lost weight, I have spent this year doing more non-school stuff, especially attending theatre. I have not made as much progress as I would have liked on my own research, but I am getting there. Of course, a bunch of unexpected things have happened, but what are you going to do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a wonderful conversation with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tuckergurl&lt;/span&gt;, and she helped me see my resolution to not fall in love in a new way. I still believe that I am not meant to grow old with a partner, but on my path to come to peace with that realization, this will be the year that I Stop Looking for Love. I mean really stop. Not do that thing where I say I'm not looking, but I keep glancing over my shoulder, or keep listening for the phone to ring. I am going to actively avoid love. Men will be nothing but friends and if I start to feel something more, then I'll stop being friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it seems silly, but I no longer trust my own instincts or judgment. If I fall for someone, I no longer believe that experience will benefit my life. And I fear for my own sanity if I continue to try and fail. I know this is real because I usually don't live my life scared by my depression. But I don't think that I could survive any more rejection...and I know I could survive living alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll be 35 this year, so here's to the first year of the rest of my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. I will also try to spend this year NOT talking about this all the time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8331383352609841525?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8331383352609841525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8331383352609841525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8331383352609841525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8331383352609841525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-new-year.html' title='It&apos;s a New Year?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1384483445566335099</id><published>2008-12-30T11:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T11:29:22.198-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>I May Be a Drama Queen, but...</title><content type='html'>...I really don't care. I got dumped last night by a guy that I thought was cool and interesting and challenging...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in a good way&lt;/span&gt;. We weren't really in a relationship, so I don't know if "dumped" is the right word.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywheu, I came to a decision: I'm done looking for lasting love. I've been dating for almost 20 years. I've had some great relationships and some shitty ones. And I have most definitely put myself out there; I really do want to get married, have kids, the whole shebang. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it's abundantly clear that I am not good at maintaining a real relationship. And, though I may be strong, I'm not strong enough for this. My mental health can't handle this type of rejection the way it used to. Perhaps it could never handle it, but now I'm more aware of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've gotten so much positive reinforcement from people who really love me. They tell me that I am great and deserve love, but perhaps I'm not being honest with them, maybe I'm not so great. Perhaps they are not being honest with me, maybe they are trying to spare my feelings. Because, for the life of me, I can't understand how if I am so great, then why won't anyone love me? The only logical conclusion is that I'm broken in some way. I know this sounds melodramatic, and I wish there was a way to present this without sounding as such, but it is honestly how I feel. There's something wrong with me...it's the only thing that makes sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that love doesn't happen the way it does in movies. There is no man who will fight and fight for me until he has broken down all my defenses and proven his undying love. And unfortunately, that's the only way I can imagine putting myself out there again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I write these words, I recognize them. I'm sure if you searched for the word "broken" and/or "love" on this blog you would find &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2007/02/untitled.html"&gt;something&lt;/a&gt;, but I'm writing down my surrender here, in public, so that the next time I get the foolish notion that I want to find a relationship, someone can remind me that I gave up on that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I can have a full life without a partner. I'm going to have a great career, I already have wonderful friends. I'm going to travel and have adventures. I'm brave enough to do a lot of things on my own. I think I will cultivate that bravery from now on. I will dote on my friends' children and be "cool" Aunt L. Britt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My New Life's Resolution: to stop trying to fall in love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1384483445566335099?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1384483445566335099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1384483445566335099&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1384483445566335099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1384483445566335099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-may-be-drama-queen-but.html' title='I May Be a Drama Queen, but...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3282993977944687254</id><published>2008-12-28T17:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T17:52:45.998-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>Quick update: I'm not annoyed with the boy anymore. He has responded to all attempts at communication. We have plans to see each other tomorrow. All is well.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am, on the other hand, very vexed by my emotions this week with regard to my mother. I've been annoyed and angry at, disappointed in, upset by her...you name it. I need to understand why I was so pissed at her this week. I had a good time regardless, but I'm coming to the conclusion that I may not be able to spend an extended amount of time with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3282993977944687254?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3282993977944687254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3282993977944687254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3282993977944687254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3282993977944687254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/12/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2775998393332241095</id><published>2008-12-24T21:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T21:55:15.306-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>I'm Annoyed with a Boy</title><content type='html'>I've been on several dates with a guy. Things are going well...slow and well. We started up right before Thanksgiving and we've seen each other on the regular ever since. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm away for the Christmas week...Hilton Head, South Carolina to be exact. My family and I walked along the beach today. I wore sandals. It's freakin' awesome! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The guy and I saw each other right before I left. It was a very nice time. He said that he looked forward to talking to me while I was away. He actually asked that I contact him while I was away. That made me happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I did. I left him a message yesterday asking him to call me back...nothing. I called him tonight to wish him a Merry Christmas...again nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm done calling. And I'm annoyed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm very annoyed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2775998393332241095?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2775998393332241095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2775998393332241095&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2775998393332241095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2775998393332241095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-annoyed-with-boy.html' title='I&apos;m Annoyed with a Boy'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4222116398852897079</id><published>2008-12-11T21:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T21:47:23.837-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><title type='text'>I Need to Make Some Changes</title><content type='html'>Ever since I've started school, I haven't been thinking about budgeting or finances. My excuse...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not reason&lt;/span&gt;...is that I am a student who doesn't have a consistent source of income. So there is no way I can budget, but that isn't true at all. Though my income isn't exactly the same from week to week, there are some sources that stay pretty consistent from month to month. I was making some headway on changing my bad financial karma when I was working, and I don't want to stop.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that classes are winding down, I'm going to spend some quality time assessing my revenue streams, getting a handle on my expenses, and start tracking where my money goes. I've already been saving on the regular, but I need to go one step further.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4222116398852897079?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4222116398852897079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4222116398852897079&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4222116398852897079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4222116398852897079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-need-to-make-some-changes.html' title='I Need to Make Some Changes'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5724657366819653788</id><published>2008-11-18T23:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T23:23:37.936-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>George Bush's Theme Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I love Coldplay's song: "Viva La Vida." There's something about the rhythmic string section that gets me moving everytime. Plus I like Chris Martin's voice...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you go, Gwenyth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywhoo, the song came on the radio just now and I decided that I wanted to know the actual words of the song...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm bad at deciphering lyrics.&lt;/span&gt; As I read along with the song, it occurred to me that this song speaks so much to Dubya. Of course, this insight has a lot to do with seeing Oliver Stone's "W." But I still think the analysis works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Check out these lyrics:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;"One minute I held the key&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next the walls were closed on me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I discovered that my castles stand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Upon pillars of salt, pillars of sand"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or these: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;"For some reason I can't explain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know St. Peter won't call my name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never an honest word&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that was when I ruled the world"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe because I'm in the crunch time for school and my brain is a little fried, but I really think these lyrics are deep in their applicability to George Bush. See what you think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5724657366819653788?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5724657366819653788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5724657366819653788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5724657366819653788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5724657366819653788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/11/george-bushs-theme-song.html' title='George Bush&apos;s Theme Song'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2821848430600851823</id><published>2008-11-05T01:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T02:03:02.139-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>My Damn Heart!</title><content type='html'>As I've mentioned before...there is stuff going on with my heart. Nothing too dramatic, but I'm in the process of figuring stuff out. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight isn't helping...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because I cannot process my emotions right now. I am elated, scared, relieved, hopeful, shocked, lonely, happy, cynical...did I mention scared?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the while my heart is beating...hard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will you remember where you were when the first Black man was elected President of the United States? I will. I was at a bar in Harvard Square, hugging strangers, calling family and friends, and using my iPhone to confirm what CNN was saying. I was standing silent with scores of people as we listened to McCain try to reduce this victory to one only for African-Americans.  I was standing with that same group of people as President-Elect Obama inspired us once again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the while, I was ever conscious of my heart beating very strong. Which is a good and bad thing for me right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I told my sister that something was up with my heart, she sent me a very cheesy email saying that it's because my heart has so much love in it that the love overwhelmed it. I poo-pooed her at the time, but now that's sort of how I feel. There is so much emotion going through my head and my heart right now, it feels like my heart can't take it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you understand?!?! Every time anyone in the world talks about the President of the United States, there will be an image of a Black person. Every. Single. Time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did anyone pick up on the seed he planted for his re-election in his acceptance speech? That was funny and crazy, but in a "crazy-like-a-fox" way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you can tell from this post, I'm still processing a lot of information. Sufficed to say,  I can't believe this is happening!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2821848430600851823?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2821848430600851823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2821848430600851823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2821848430600851823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2821848430600851823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-damn-heart.html' title='My Damn Heart!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7839952592248246180</id><published>2008-11-03T11:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T14:14:56.427-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>A Great Political Website</title><content type='html'>This &lt;a href="http://thisfuckingelection.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; is a great artistic representation of the last two very political years.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't talk about tomorrow; I can barely think about it. I'm so anxious, if I ponder on it for too long, I will freak out. Either way, the decision is going to affect me on such a fundamental level. I'm going to be crying tomorrow night...hard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On top of all that, tomorrow morning, I have an appointment with my cardiologist to look at my &lt;a href="http://my.clevelandclinic.org/heart/disorders/congenital/pfo.aspx"&gt;patent &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://my.clevelandclinic.org/heart/disorders/congenital/pfo.aspx"&gt;foramen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://my.clevelandclinic.org/heart/disorders/congenital/pfo.aspx"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://my.clevelandclinic.org/heart/disorders/congenital/pfo.aspx"&gt;ovale&lt;/a&gt;. I recently discovered that I have a slight hole in my heart and it might be the cause of a bunch of stuff I've suffered from for years: my migraines, my syncope, my low blood pressure. Tomorrow I get a more thorough examination and it's decided whether or not I need to have a "procedure."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So on top of the future of this country being decided in a real way, I have to get my heart looked over. What a crazy day it will be!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7839952592248246180?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7839952592248246180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7839952592248246180&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7839952592248246180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7839952592248246180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/11/great-political-website.html' title='A Great Political Website'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2724879419531450107</id><published>2008-10-25T19:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T19:40:39.112-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>God...I love radio!</title><content type='html'>This story by Sarah Jones is amazing! And all the more powerful because it enters our brain through the ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="36" width="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.studio360.org/flashplayer/mp3player.swf?config=http://www.studio360.org/flashplayer/config_share.xml&amp;amp;file=http://www.studio360.org/stream/xspf/113356"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.studio360.org/flashplayer/mp3player.swf?config=http://www.studio360.org/flashplayer/config_share.xml&amp;amp;file=http://www.studio360.org/stream/xspf/113356" id="STUDIO360_Mp3_Player_113356" name="STUDIO360_Mp3_Player_113356" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" wmode="transparent" height="36" width="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2724879419531450107?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2724879419531450107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2724879419531450107&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2724879419531450107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2724879419531450107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/10/godi-love-radio.html' title='God...I love radio!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-6128597434955070676</id><published>2008-10-07T00:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T00:39:28.802-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I Need New Glasses</title><content type='html'>I'm much better at getting out of bad situations with men faster. When I see red flags, I am bringing them out into the open much sooner. And I've gained the strength to walk away when those flags keep waving. I am amazingly proud of myself for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is no longer enough. Now I want to stop being drawn to men with red flags in the first place. I just want a man who has the time and the energy to really get to know me, to figure out if he wants to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;be&lt;/span&gt; with me. I honestly don't think I'm asking for too much, and yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll run by my therapist tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-6128597434955070676?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/6128597434955070676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=6128597434955070676&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6128597434955070676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6128597434955070676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-need-new-glasses.html' title='I Need New Glasses'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5413568837983226525</id><published>2008-09-25T16:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T17:14:22.281-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>What a Difference a Year Makes</title><content type='html'>As you may have noticed from my blatant absence from this blog, school has started up again. The library is filled with people and my days are filled with classes, meetings, and other such goings-on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Per usual, I am busy and a bit tired, but other than that this year is so drastically different than last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I'm 12 pounds lighter than I was last year. I honestly don't know what happened to the last 4 pounds...I haven't been very diligent keeping track of my points, but I still eat like I am (e.g., eating half a sandwich, ordering a side salad instead of fries, getting the cinnamon raisin bagel instead of the plain). And I continue to run as often as I can. I'm telling you that keeps me sane like nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I'm at peace with my level of intelligence. I am a smart cookie and I'm firmer in knowing that than I was last year, even as I learn things everyday that blow my mind and make me question it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, I'm taking an advanced quantitative methods course when this time last year the thought of stats made me cry. I'm going to be a teaching assistant for a stats course in the spring, for goodness' sake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourthly, I am officially all right regarding the break-up with TM. With the support and straight-up bullying of friends to make the right decisions...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for which I am eternally grateful&lt;/span&gt;...along with my own new found maturity, I have healed from that loss. I am so proud of myself for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifthly, I have found true friends here. Granted, they have issues up the wazoo, but so do I, and we're all crazy at Harvard together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sixthly, I'm spending a lot more time with Ella and that's nothing but goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I like my life. It's far from perfect and even farther than where I want it to be, but it's doing just fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5413568837983226525?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5413568837983226525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5413568837983226525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5413568837983226525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5413568837983226525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-difference-year-makes.html' title='What a Difference a Year Makes'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1100647950223762222</id><published>2008-09-18T22:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T23:13:30.021-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><title type='text'>My New Bed</title><content type='html'>So I got a new bed this week...not really, though. It's actually a memory foam mattress topper for the bed I already have, but it's really like having a new bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that I got this "new" bed is really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TM's&lt;/span&gt; fault. When we lived together, he bought a 4-inch memory foam and it transformed our sleeping experience. It was the most comfortable thing ever! But when we broke up, he took it with him. I thought I could live without it, but I soon discovered that I couldn't. So I ordered a 2-inch one that came with two pillows. It's not as amazing as the 4-inch one, but it's still pretty damn cool. I do believe that I'm sleeping better than I did before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe the world would be a better place if more people had memory foam mattress toppers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1100647950223762222?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1100647950223762222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1100647950223762222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1100647950223762222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1100647950223762222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-new-bed.html' title='My New Bed'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2576985433365930716</id><published>2008-09-11T23:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T02:23:09.911-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><title type='text'>I Miss NYC Today</title><content type='html'>I don't really miss living in NYC. I don't like Boston very much at all, but I am glad I left New York. It was making me too hard and cynical and impatient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for today. Because no one in the city I live in now gets it. When I tell people in Boston I was living in New York on 9/11, I get the appropriate wide-eyed glances and "wows," but no one really gets it. In fact, hardly anyone has brought it up today at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one who was living in Boston knows how New York smelled that day and for days after; how the smoke and dust seemed to cover the entire city; how everyone walked around in shock for weeks; how it felt to watch those barges haul the mountains of debris up the Hudson; how it felt to scan the photos in the paper and in the news for potential friends, family, classmates. No one in Boston truly understands how scared we all were. New York...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for a New York minute&lt;/span&gt;...became a scary place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wish I was living in New York. Because I'm sure life went on there as well, but at least I would feel like I was surrounded by people who truly understood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2576985433365930716?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2576985433365930716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2576985433365930716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2576985433365930716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2576985433365930716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-miss-nyc-today.html' title='I Miss NYC Today'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7727976254476054252</id><published>2008-09-07T11:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T11:12:27.987-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Single and Fabulous?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Remember that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Sex and the City" episode?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to get something out of my head and heart before it eats away at me. I am a single woman; that is my reality. I wish I wasn't, however I know I am moving on and I am proud of myself for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except...when I get a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; message from a very old friend who assumes that someone in a photo is my husband. And then I read the Weddings/Celebrations section of the New York &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Times&lt;/span&gt;. Why shouldn't my friend make that assumption? Everyone else we know from our circle of friends is married by now; I am in my mid-30s now...it's fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that happens, I stop feeling proud. Instead, a surge of loneliness and failure that is so intense it stings my eyes comes over me. There is nothing for me to do in those moments except feel the feeling without judgment and with the knowledge that this, too, shall pass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7727976254476054252?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7727976254476054252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7727976254476054252&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7727976254476054252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7727976254476054252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/09/single-and-fabulous.html' title='Single and Fabulous?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4093522947751761851</id><published>2008-09-03T22:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:10:20.861-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Eerie</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know that Sarah Palin's youngest, Trig, has special needs and all...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why don't people just say he has Down's Syndrome?&lt;/span&gt;, but am I the only one that thinks it's strange that her son hasn't even stirred? That kid was passed from Cindy McCain to Todd Palin to Piper without a peep. Piper is spit-shining Trig's hair, curling his eyelashes, messing with her brother like he's a ragdoll. And isn't it funny that no one passed Trig to Bristol? Let's not give Americans &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; image, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's eerie, I tell you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4093522947751761851?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4093522947751761851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4093522947751761851&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4093522947751761851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4093522947751761851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/09/eerie.html' title='Eerie'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4389126850837647728</id><published>2008-08-28T13:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T15:53:43.402-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Maybe They Just Don't WANT to Know</title><content type='html'>I was listening to a news talk show this morning while getting dressed and the host was talking about how many Americans still hold so many misconceptions about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Barack&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can I tell you how excited I am to see his speech tonight?&lt;/span&gt;...despite all the campaign appearances and news coverage that he's received over the last two years. They include such ignorant falsehoods as he wasn't born in America...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he couldn't be President if he wasn't, you IDIOTS!...&lt;/span&gt;that he's a Muslim, blah, blah, blah. She even had the gall to say the fact that she, as a member of the media, was repeating these false perceptions help fortify them...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;then don't repeat them!&lt;/span&gt; She went on to ask the guest what does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; "have to do" to show people "who he really is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point, I realized something. There are a bunch of people who just don't want to get to know him. Either because they are still boo-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hooing&lt;/span&gt; over Hilary&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...don't get me started on them. I swear, if McCain wins, I'm not blaming Nader, I'm blaming those weepy losers who couldn't see past their own boobs to vote for the person who has the most in common with Hilary (except for race, of course. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ay&lt;/span&gt;, there's the rub)&lt;/span&gt;...or because they are Republican, or because...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;drum roll, please...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; just doesn't look like them so therefore he must not have anything in common with them. These are the people who will die thinking the Democrats were able to find a loophole in the Constitution and nominate a Muslim from Kenya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer to the host's question is: there is nothing he can do because there are people who simply don't want to get to know a Black man.  God forbid their tightly-held, yet incredibly fragile assumptions about other races get shot to pieces. Whom, oh whom, will they blame their problems on? Themselves?...don't be silly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4389126850837647728?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4389126850837647728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4389126850837647728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4389126850837647728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4389126850837647728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/08/maybe-they-just-dont-want-to-know.html' title='Maybe They Just Don&apos;t WANT to Know'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1710965083679358640</id><published>2008-08-14T22:54:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:01:17.978-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reviews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theatre'/><title type='text'>One of The Most Important Plays Ever Written</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H826KxK3EX0/Rt9dQYGyFxI/AAAAAAAACNg/qRgBw861BVs/s1600/thewomen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 370px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H826KxK3EX0/Rt9dQYGyFxI/AAAAAAAACNg/qRgBw861BVs/s1600/thewomen.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0430770/"&gt;The Women&lt;/a&gt; is being remade. I saw the first commercial for it tonight. It took me a minute to recognize it, but it is indeed a remake of the 1936 play, which was first turned into a movie in 1939. The playwright was &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clare_Boothe_Luce"&gt;Clare Booth Luce&lt;/a&gt;, a fascinating woman. She was a New York society woman who also happened to be a successful writer and serve in Congress. You should read &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rage-Fame-Ascent-Clare-Booth/dp/0812992490/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1218770373&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rage for Fame&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is this play important? Because, when done correctly...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't see "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Opposite_Sex"&gt;The Opposite Sex&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;, its cast is made up entirely of women. Sure, the  majority of the plot revolves around men, but you never see or hear one man in the entire play/movie. For any Broadway show or Hollywood flick, that is incredible. And now, just as in 1939, the movie stars some top notch talent...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;except Eva Mendes. How the hell did she get this part?&lt;/span&gt; For this most recent iteration, every actor that gets billing in this movie is a woman.  That's so cool to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not the most PC movie in the world, and I'm sure &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diane_English"&gt;Diane English&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the creator of "Murphy Brown"&lt;/span&gt;...will modernize it a lot, but when done correctly, it is witty and smart. I can't wait to see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1710965083679358640?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1710965083679358640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1710965083679358640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1710965083679358640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1710965083679358640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-of-most-important-plays-ever.html' title='One of The Most Important Plays Ever Written'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_H826KxK3EX0/Rt9dQYGyFxI/AAAAAAAACNg/qRgBw861BVs/s72-c/thewomen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7830921921453955538</id><published>2008-08-14T22:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T22:42:52.405-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>I Have Nothing to Say...Except This</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I've been here; it's because I really don't have anything to say. I mean, I always have a lot to say, but for some reason I don't feel any of it is important enough to log in, go to a new post screen, type it out, re-read and edit it, apply the appropriate labels, and publish it. I haven't been lazy this summer...&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;in fact I've been the complete opposite of lazy&lt;/span&gt;...but for some reason, I can't get my act together to post on this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I can tell you that I move into my new apartment this weekend. I've been a house guest/sitter for my friend this summer. It's been great to live rent free for two and a half months, but I'm really looking forward to having my own space...&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;with a roommate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking a lot about moving and its significance. Four years ago, a move was just a move. It meant rent got too expensive, or I was living in a different city. It actually wasn't a big deal. I learned how to start early, clean out clutter, pack everything up without having to buy boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I moved into Ex's place. And I moved &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; of Ex's place and into my own owned apartment. Then TM moved in with me and we moved to Boston together. Moves started to mean something. They meant the creation or destruction of a home, sometimes both simultaneously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now moving is back to just moving again. It's a logistical necessity, nothing more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a bit sad. Eh...what are you going to do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7830921921453955538?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7830921921453955538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7830921921453955538&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7830921921453955538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7830921921453955538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-have-nothing-to-sayexcept-this.html' title='I Have Nothing to Say...Except This'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2014279486742968063</id><published>2008-07-31T10:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T10:38:33.429-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>This is SO wrong, yet so good!</title><content type='html'>People have a lot of time on their hands...and thank goodness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/271557392" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashVars="videoId=1701226987&amp;playerId=271557392&amp;viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://console.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&amp;servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&amp;cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&amp;domain=embed&amp;autoStart=false&amp;" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="486" height="412" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swLiveConnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2014279486742968063?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2014279486742968063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2014279486742968063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2014279486742968063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2014279486742968063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-so-wrong-yet-so-good.html' title='This is SO wrong, yet so good!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8877669645328930910</id><published>2008-07-27T13:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T13:17:14.553-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>College Chums</title><content type='html'>I went to college with &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/santogold"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Santogold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying that in a boastful way. In fact, I'm kinda wigged out that I "knew her when." Even she admits she never saw herself doing this, and I certainly never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like I haven't seen my friends and people I know make it big. On my latest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Netflix&lt;/span&gt; rental, I saw an ad for a movie made by someone I partied with in Argentina; she helped me buy some sexy stilettos. My friend just published a book and got an article published in a national newspaper. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://tuckergurl.typepad.com/tuckergurl/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tuckergurl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; in the middle of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;/span&gt; because &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0041280/"&gt;someone else&lt;/a&gt; we went to college with was in the movie. I've seen my friends in national TV commercials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, for some reason, seeing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Santi's&lt;/span&gt; weird video weirds me out. It's definitely not jealousy...I'm exactly where I should be. Ah, well...She's touring with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Coldplay&lt;/span&gt; this summer, which is pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;friggin&lt;/span&gt;' awesome for her. And she got a blurb in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;New Yorker&lt;/span&gt;. Even awesome-er.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8877669645328930910?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8877669645328930910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8877669645328930910&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8877669645328930910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8877669645328930910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/college-chums.html' title='College Chums'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-878689404623495</id><published>2008-07-20T22:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T22:19:56.627-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><title type='text'>Cool Things on the Web</title><content type='html'>I've had a tummy ache since Friday afternoon; it has not been fun, believe you me. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't you love that phrase!&lt;/span&gt; Anyway, to distract myself I've followed up on what a couple of friends of mine have found on the web and they are indeed pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. One of my friends has this &lt;a href="http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/?fbid=bywTL"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; as her gchat status. I don't know anything about this guy Matt, but it's pretty cool what's he and his partner have done. Definitely check it out...one of the best music videos I've seen in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The Rover found this &lt;a href="http://catfishandcollards.blogspot.com/2008/07/horrible-is-great.html"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt; and it is pretty awesome, I have to say. You forget that Hollywood is filled with creative types that just got covered with marketing grime. Take that grime off and real kooky genius emerges.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-878689404623495?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/878689404623495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=878689404623495&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/878689404623495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/878689404623495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/cool-things-on-web.html' title='Cool Things on the Web'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3228265708369034428</id><published>2008-07-12T18:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T18:21:51.101-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>RIP Tony Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.extrememortman.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/Tony%20Snow%20from%20breitbart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 198px;" src="http://www.extrememortman.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/Tony%20Snow%20from%20breitbart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just read that Tony Snow died of cancer today. He was only 53 years old. That is really sad. Though he worked for a complete idiot, he was actually very smart and SO funny! Did you hear him on "&lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=7694994"&gt;Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!&lt;/a&gt;"? Check it out. My heart goes out to his family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3228265708369034428?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3228265708369034428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3228265708369034428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3228265708369034428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3228265708369034428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/rip-tony-snow.html' title='RIP Tony Snow'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-6585069794421592101</id><published>2008-07-10T11:22:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T18:36:11.869-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Why Can't We All Just Get Along?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/07/10/timestopics/jessejackson_190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 216px;" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/07/10/timestopics/jessejackson_190.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm not saying Fox News did the right thing...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;when do they EVER do the right thing?...&lt;/span&gt;by broadcasting the private comments, but come on, Jesse. You just sound like a hater. You may think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was being condescending, but he got a standing ovation after that speech. And you look even worse because you had to &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/10/us/politics/10jackson.html?ref=politics"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-apologize&lt;/a&gt; for what you said. Tacky, just tacky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sour grapes is not a good look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other crazy news, I found out last night that Wendy William's memoir is going to be turned into a movie starring...&lt;a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/363994/robin_givens_queen_of_media_movie_about.html"&gt;Robin Givens&lt;/a&gt;.  There are no words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ADDENDUM&lt;/span&gt;: This &lt;a href="http://www.theroot.com/id/47225"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Root&lt;/span&gt; says exactly what I think about the whole Jesse debacle, plus a bunch more. It's really good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-6585069794421592101?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/6585069794421592101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=6585069794421592101&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6585069794421592101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6585069794421592101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-cant-we-all-just-get-along.html' title='Why Can&apos;t We All Just Get Along?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1117720176697592824</id><published>2008-07-08T15:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T15:59:42.508-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><title type='text'>Love the One You're With</title><content type='html'>I may be single right now, but at least I'm not dating this douche!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. The man you see is not the actual Dimitri, he's an actor lip syncing the message. It's wicked funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dZ83use8YE8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dZ83use8YE8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Part Two...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/j7epDIrJImU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/j7epDIrJImU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1117720176697592824?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1117720176697592824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1117720176697592824&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1117720176697592824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1117720176697592824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-one-youre-with.html' title='Love the One You&apos;re With'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4767549863812348377</id><published>2008-07-05T21:48:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T22:55:29.562-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reviews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><title type='text'>Things Are Happening</title><content type='html'>I didn't realized how long it's been since I've posted anything at all on the site. Plenty of stuff has been happening to me, but I've been busy deciding if I wanted to blog about it. I've decided some things I will talk about, one thing I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I've lost 4 pounds in the last three weeks with Weight Watchers. I wasn't overweight by any stretch of the imagination, but my body mass index was at the maximum for my height. Obesity runs in my family and I didn't want to rest on my laurels, so to speak. Just because I'm not obese doesn't mean that I'm fine. So I decided to get help getting disciplined about what I eat. It's amazing how hard it is to stay conscious about food...it's very, very hard. Half the time I want to eat something really bad out of defiance. Until I realize I'd only be cutting off my nose to spite my face. I wish I was losing more faster, but four pounds is nothing to sneeze at. One pound is the weight of four sticks of butter! So I've shed 16 sticks of butter in three weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I just finished watching the entire first season of "&lt;a href="http://www.amctv.com/originals/madmen/"&gt;Mad Men&lt;/a&gt;" on On Demand. Damn, that show is good. I watched it marathon-style in the day before July 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and today. Every time I see Jon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hamm&lt;/span&gt;, I melt a little inside. That man is fine inside and out. I can't wait for the Season 2 opener at the end of July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, I hosted a great July 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; BBQ at the place where I'm house sitting this summer. It was an intimate gathering and it was great. Lots of good food, good drinking, and good conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth, I actually have a lot of work to do. I wanted to take it easy on with regards to "resume-building" work, but alas, I've gotten some great gigs. It requires a great deal of discipline, but it's good practice for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifth, I ran a race a couple of weeks ago. It felt good. I've been running more often anyway in pursuit of my weight loss goal. The race reminded me of the best part of running. They served us beers at 10am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, I'm embarking on a new adventure. It's a bit of a surprise that I'm here, but it feels good. We'll see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4767549863812348377?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4767549863812348377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4767549863812348377&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4767549863812348377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4767549863812348377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/07/things-are-happening.html' title='Things Are Happening'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2974388494425435341</id><published>2008-06-21T23:27:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T23:39:56.697-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><title type='text'>My Dog Has Better Healthcare!</title><content type='html'>I got the most bizarre phone call last night. I was shocked and pleased by it at the same time. Then I got sad. Let me explain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember in my last post when I mentioned that I dealt with a &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/causal-claims-from-correlational-data.html"&gt;medical emergency&lt;/a&gt; for Ella? It turned out not be an emergency, but of course I didn't know that at the time. To deal with it, I went to the pet emergency room at &lt;a href="http://www.mspca.org/site/PageServer?pagename=aamc_pagewrapperbutton"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Angell&lt;/span&gt; Memorial&lt;/a&gt; Medical Center, one of the largest and best animal hospitals in the Northeast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, let me say that I have never been in a human ER this nice. It was a wide open space, with plenty of comfortable seating, a well-stocked vending machine area with hot and cold food choices, plenty of water fountains, and everyone was friendly and patient. I waited at most 20 minutes to see someone. All the vets had their own laptops as well as pagers that allowed them to connect with everyone else in the hospital and update patients' files in real time. Amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we checked in, I had to fill out a form that asked for Ella's real vet's name, so I provided it. Last night I got a call from her vet saying that the hospital had called to report that Ella had been there. The vet was just calling to "follow up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe it? It's always been my responsibility to contact my primary care physician when I've been in the ER. And never have I received a "follow up" call...again, my responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it, in the richest country in the world, my dog has better health care than I do? And why am I still grateful for what I've got?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2974388494425435341?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2974388494425435341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2974388494425435341&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2974388494425435341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2974388494425435341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-dog-has-better-healthcare.html' title='My &lt;i&gt;Dog&lt;/i&gt; Has Better Healthcare!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2121827790712553053</id><published>2008-06-19T20:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T21:26:53.241-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Causal Claims from Correlational Data</title><content type='html'>The title of this post is a statistical concept. One of the mantras of social science research is that a person cannot claim to have proven one thing causes another when they have only presented evidence of a relationship between two variables. An example often used is the statement: Ice cream causes more crime. Just because there is a relationship between these two things...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;both things increase in the summer&lt;/span&gt;...doesn't mean that one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;causes&lt;/span&gt; another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say all that to say that I've had a very rough week emotionally. I have missed TM like I missed him 2 1/2 months ago. I have gone over old emails, old pictures, reviewed good times and bad in my head like a movie. I have wanted him back and wanted to never see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simultaneously, I have gone to dinner with friends, done research, seen a movie with my sister, looked for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bartending&lt;/span&gt; gig for the summer, facilitated a conference, helped a friend move, and took care of Ella through a medical emergency. So it's not like I'm sitting around moping or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to figure out &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why this week?&lt;/span&gt; Why is this amazing sadness coming over me now? And I have two explanations. However, I must preface these possibilities with the fact that I can't say for sure if these events are causing the sadness or just happen to be in proximity to the sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;The depression that I was so scared of has caught up to me. Now that my semester is done, and I have time to relax, the true weight of my loss is barreling down on me. Just like before. I will now have to start taking anti-depressants again and may have to spend the summer in the hospital. Just like before.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I met a guy. I don't know much about him, but what I do know, I like. First of all, he's older than me. He and I are both in the same doctorate program and our research interests are similar. He's told me that my passion and drive are "encouraging" to him. Already worlds different from what I've known before. My friend told me that the reason why I'm sad is because as I open a new door, I'm closing one behind me. And that's bittersweet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Perhaps I'm not ready to go through the door...we'll see after the first date. Perhaps I'm succumbing to depression again...we'll see after my therapist's appointment. Perhaps I'm just dealing with a major break-up and some weeks are worse than others...we'll see next week. I guess the best thing I can do is see. I'm desperately trying not to jump to any causal conclusions while I just observe myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. By the way, I got an "A" in Intermediate Statistics this past semester. One of the most challenging courses in the school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2121827790712553053?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2121827790712553053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2121827790712553053&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2121827790712553053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2121827790712553053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/causal-claims-from-correlational-data.html' title='Causal Claims from Correlational Data'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3783211266321126536</id><published>2008-06-16T22:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T22:54:37.492-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>I Talk Too Much</title><content type='html'>I don't tell secrets, but I do talk too much. Especially when I really like the person. I was looking through all the emails I had saved from the beginning of my relationship with TM and they started with him writing me, and me writing back. It was a very even see-saw. Then a few weeks in, it turned into 4-5 emails from me to him, then his reply. It got very uneven. Most of those emails were about trivial things, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must worked much harder on keeping my mouth shut. I must let the next person get a word in edgewise. I must listen SO much harder than I did with TM. Because TM did mislead me with what he wanted from life...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't get me wrong&lt;/span&gt;...but he also gave me clues to our downfall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3783211266321126536?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3783211266321126536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3783211266321126536&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3783211266321126536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3783211266321126536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-talk-too-much.html' title='I Talk Too Much'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3444299418545839233</id><published>2008-06-11T22:05:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T22:14:11.995-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Same Ole Question</title><content type='html'>When does it stop hurting? I've moved out of the apartment we shared; we are no longer a family in the eyes of our cell phone plan; I changed the layout of my blog; I'm running every day...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for the past two days &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;:)...what does a girl have to do to get over the man she loves/d?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she needs a shot of testosterone because the guy always seems to be SO fine. Is it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; easy to get over me? Am I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; bad a person that the guy can move on so quickly, with a quick wiping of hands and a "good riddance?" What's wrong with me? Saying "nothing" is not cutting it tonight 'cuz I feel very wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3444299418545839233?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3444299418545839233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3444299418545839233&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3444299418545839233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3444299418545839233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/same-ole-question.html' title='Same Ole Question'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-6149051869588145892</id><published>2008-06-09T10:55:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T12:32:36.945-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reviews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><title type='text'>A Missed Opportunity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.jkrowling.com/en/"&gt;J.K. Rowling&lt;/a&gt; (pronounced &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;rolling&lt;/span&gt;) was the commencement speaker for Harvard this year.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I say here how confusing Harvard's graduation exercises are? There is the main ceremony with everyone, then the separate school diploma ceremonies, then everyone gets back together for the Commencement speaker. Not to mention that it's a month after the last day of classes. So weird!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had no urge to hear her speech. I thought she would not be interesting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at all&lt;/span&gt;. I mean, I loved the books, but they weren't high literature or anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy was I wrong! Everyone who went said the speech was amazing. She was funny, smart, moving, and inspirational. I had to see it. So of course I went straight to YouTube...and they were right. One of her best lines: while talking about the value of failure she made it clear that she was not advocating being poor. &lt;blockquote&gt;"Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is something on which to pride yourself. But poverty itself is romanticized only by fools."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That idea was one of the biggest problems I had with TM. As a person who never had to deal with it, he seemed to look down on people who actively tried to avoid it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know the speech is in three parts, but please check it out. Especially if you hated your graduation speaker. You can listen to this one and claim it as your own...it's that good. 2008 was a great year for &lt;a href="http://tuckergurl.typepad.com/tuckergurl/2008/05/obama-at-wesley.html"&gt;commencement speakers&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" text align: center; value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L445BmUEXH4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L445BmUEXH4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-6149051869588145892?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/6149051869588145892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=6149051869588145892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6149051869588145892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6149051869588145892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/missed-opportunity.html' title='A Missed Opportunity'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-299292731109820774</id><published>2008-06-08T11:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T11:57:16.137-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feminine troubles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>I Am Also a Woman, However</title><content type='html'>Being an adult is so confusing! Everything I wrote in my last &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/can-someone-please-explain-this-to-me.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; is absolutely true, but my friend just sent me this YouTube video that almost made me nauseous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/g-IrhRSwF9U&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g-IrhRSwF9U&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-299292731109820774?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/299292731109820774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=299292731109820774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/299292731109820774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/299292731109820774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-am-also-woman-however.html' title='I Am Also a Woman, However'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-717639430018867390</id><published>2008-06-08T11:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T11:35:12.478-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feminine troubles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Can Someone PLEASE Explain This to Me?</title><content type='html'>I just heard a story on "Weekend Edition" about Clinton's concession speech and the response of her supporters. Women, unashamed to say their name, said that they were not going to support the Democratic Presidential nominee, and might even vote for McCain. I went out with a group of white women yesterday, and they echoed this sentiment, saying things like "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hilary DID get the popular vote&lt;/span&gt;," and "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Obama supporters could have voted Undecided for the Michigan primary."&lt;/span&gt; These Harvard-educated women were saying this with a straight face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had so many questions, but we let the conversation fall away to keep the jovial mood. Would they have complained that it wasn't a "clear-cut win" if Hilary had actually won? Would they be hesitant, even obstinate, in not supporting Obama if he were White? Are people so incredibly ignorant that they would rather vote for a Republican...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after EVERYTHING we've been through for the past eight years&lt;/span&gt;...than see a Black man in the Oval Office? I would hate to believe educated, White women could still be so blatantly racist...so please, can someone provide me with another explanation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, it became very clear to me during the conversation with my friends yesterday that as my status as a Black woman in the society, I am a Black person first. The feminist dialogue does not speak to me at all, mainly because it is written by White people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-717639430018867390?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/717639430018867390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=717639430018867390&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/717639430018867390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/717639430018867390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/can-someone-please-explain-this-to-me.html' title='Can Someone PLEASE Explain This to Me?'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4614002211726151798</id><published>2008-06-05T21:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T22:07:55.495-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><title type='text'>Feeling Lucky, but It's Not About Luck</title><content type='html'>This &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/06/business/06mortgage.html?hp=&amp;amp;adxnnl=1&amp;amp;adxnnlx=1212718037-njxL8YAReaQQ4fgBggN+7Q"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; is one of many that has been in the news in the past year or so. It's highlighting the crisis of home ownership in America. This is a very big deal because owning property is part of the foundation of this country: economically, socially, etc. Think about what it means to own your home, and what it means to own a home in one neighborhood versus another. Cities and towns function primarily through property taxes levied on homes. It's a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you recall, I own an apartment in Brooklyn. It's far from the shi-shi areas that most people covet in Brooklyn, but it's a nice neighborhood, and the apartment is huge compared to most of those apartments in the shi-shi area...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;900 square feet, baby!&lt;/span&gt;  There was a time a few years ago where I was way behind in my mortgage. To be behind in my mortgage means to owe the bank 4 figures in a hot minute, so just imagine what being way behind looked like. The amount due every month is totally doable, but as soon as you get behind, you get screwed. I was screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a year, but I worked my *ss off to get back on track and I haven't fallen behind since. When I moved to Boston, I found a fabulous tenant who pays the rent on time every month and keeps the apartment nice. So now &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she's&lt;/span&gt; paying my mortgage. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fortunate that I'm not the one in 11 who's facing foreclosure. I feel lucky that I have a tenant in my place. I also feel charmed that I did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; receive a sub-prime mortgage, that my rate is fixed for the life of my loan. But I also feel proud that I pulled my mortgage back in good standing on my own...before the economic sh*t hit the fan. And that my mortgage remains in good standing through this national crisis. I did that! Luck has nothing to do with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4614002211726151798?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4614002211726151798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4614002211726151798&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4614002211726151798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4614002211726151798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/feeling-lucky-but-its-not-about-luck.html' title='Feeling Lucky, but It&apos;s Not About Luck'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4944327669309137562</id><published>2008-06-03T22:17:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:01:18.322-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>I Think I'm in Shock</title><content type='html'>This became the front page of the New York &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Times&lt;/span&gt; online at 10:12pm tonight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SEX9nLZj0kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/DwAn6TnmEWc/s1600-h/obama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SEX9nLZj0kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/DwAn6TnmEWc/s320/obama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207847393640567362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I knew this was coming. All the pundits were talking about how close Obama was, how the tone and focus of his campaign has shifted. I mean, I knew this was going to happen and it was probably going to happen tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet...I just heard him say that he is now "running for President of the United States." And I can't really believe it. There is a Black man running to be the leader of America...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and if Clinton, her ego, and her bull-headed supporters don't f*ck it up&lt;/span&gt;...he has a good chance of winning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe this is happening in my lifetime. I never thought America would live up to its potential in this way. His wife is right: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt; is the time to be the most proud of our country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. This happened on my mom's birthday...what a present for her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4944327669309137562?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4944327669309137562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4944327669309137562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4944327669309137562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4944327669309137562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-think-im-in-shock.html' title='I Think I&apos;m in Shock'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SEX9nLZj0kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/DwAn6TnmEWc/s72-c/obama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1976427306969596201</id><published>2008-05-29T18:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T19:01:38.604-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>The Break-Up, Part 73</title><content type='html'>It's my turn to move out this weekend. I'm in the process of packing up my stuff and moving most of it down to the basement. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm house sitting for the summer, so I'm storing my stuff in the basement here&lt;/span&gt;. Of course, I'm going through some aspects of the break-up again, though luckily not as intensely. Right now, I'm thinking about why and how I got to this place, wishing I wasn't here, remembering the days when TM loved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point: I still have the cell phone that I had before I got my iPhone. Since I'm in a big "get rid of it" mood, I figured I need to put the phone in the Goodwill pile. But I turned it on and looked through all the saved text messages. There a bunch of messages from TM telling me that he loves me, that's he so grateful for me, and that he never wants to take me for granted. There are private jokes and general silliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I don't want to get rid of the phone. It's like if I keep the phone and those messages, then he'll still love me.  It will be like the TM that I knew back then will exist and the TM who's ready to start dating again...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;according to his social networking page...&lt;/span&gt;won't exist.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I know, it doesn't make much sense, but I'm trying to remember that I don't have to right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will get rid of the phone, but God I miss him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1976427306969596201?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1976427306969596201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1976427306969596201&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1976427306969596201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1976427306969596201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/break-up-part-73.html' title='The Break-Up, Part 73'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-404617190586977853</id><published>2008-05-22T23:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T23:33:26.093-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>And I Didn't Cry</title><content type='html'>I saw him tonight. It was only for a moment, on a doorstep.  It felt good; he is still the one I want to tell everything to. I know he won't be ever again, but for a time, it felt really nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-404617190586977853?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/404617190586977853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=404617190586977853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/404617190586977853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/404617190586977853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-i-didnt-cry.html' title='And I Didn&apos;t Cry'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1892500676942483396</id><published>2008-05-20T12:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T12:20:46.131-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>A Change of Pace</title><content type='html'>Though I need to keep posting about TM in order to process and deal, I'm sick of doing so at the present moment, so I'll share other news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is in Mexico right now!!! She's spending three weeks living with a family outside of Mexico City doing some community organizing work and taking intensive Spanish classes. And this is for course credit. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, my mom is in school as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time my mom has been out of the country in many, many years.  All three of her daughters have been to some combination of Europe, South America, Africa, Central America, and the Caribbean...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some of us have been to all five. &lt;/span&gt;She has only been to Jamaica, Bermuda, and Canada. My mom is the personification of making sure the next generation accomplishes more than the one before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so impressed with her strength to keep learning and growing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1892500676942483396?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1892500676942483396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1892500676942483396&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1892500676942483396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1892500676942483396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/change-of-pace.html' title='A Change of Pace'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3829825137035858071</id><published>2008-05-18T20:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T21:17:17.378-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>A Death in the Family</title><content type='html'>On my drive home from my S'mom's &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/congrats-smom.html"&gt;graduation&lt;/a&gt; tonight, I thought back on a recent encounter I had with TM. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Did I mention that he moved down the street from our old apartment?&lt;/span&gt; We spoke very briefly, but that's not new. These days, we only have the briefest, most superficial conversations. Even when I called him to tell him that I finished my first year and to thank him for the part he played in supporting me...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I made it clear that I wasn't referring to the recent past, which he made more difficult&lt;/span&gt;...he response was so official. So professional, like he was talking to a client or something, not someone whom he once loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about this in the car, I realized that I want to interact with TM, but I don't at the same time. I see the man I love and I want to talk to him, tell him about the end of my semester, hear about his music...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ironically, I am/was one of his biggest supporters&lt;/span&gt;. But when I try, another person responds. A person who doesn't love me at all, who doesn't want to know me. It's like TM died the night we broke up. There is another man walking around that looks and sounds like him, but the TM I knew is gone. And he's probably never coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know...this isn't news. But it hit me like a ton of bricks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3829825137035858071?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3829825137035858071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3829825137035858071&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3829825137035858071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3829825137035858071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/death-in-family.html' title='A Death in the Family'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5046474165646562130</id><published>2008-05-18T20:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T20:45:01.055-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Congrats S'mom!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/20/Talisman_-Vayou_-Vaslav_Nijinsky_-1909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 245px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/20/Talisman_-Vayou_-Vaslav_Nijinsky_-1909.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just got back from a graduation, but it wasn't for one of my younger siblings or cousins. It was for my stepmom, who finished her Bachelor's after starting it decades earlier. In the interim, she's lived in New York City, worked with some fantastic artists, earned her Master's degree...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;arts school, what are you going to do?...&lt;/span&gt;got married, raised a child, maintained a lovely home, and has supported me as I have cried, laughed, ranted, complained, marveled, worried, and celebrated life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't ask for a better second mom. I love her and I am so proud of her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5046474165646562130?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5046474165646562130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5046474165646562130&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5046474165646562130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5046474165646562130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/congrats-smom.html' title='Congrats S&apos;mom!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3754467478669542287</id><published>2008-05-16T15:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T15:55:57.197-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>"Relax, Relate, Release"</title><content type='html'>Us children of the 80s and early 90s will recognize the title of this post. I had totally forgotten it and what it meant until this morning. I'm wishing I had remembered it earlier while I was freaking the f*&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;uck&lt;/span&gt; out, but what are you going to do? With a new day comes new developments, new insights, and my Aunt Pee to help explain away the confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for all those that put up with my digital primal scream yesterday. I think I really needed it. As soon as I posted it, I decided that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TM's&lt;/span&gt; decisions were NOT going to tear apart my family anymore than they had already. If it meant that I couch surfed all summer, I would do it until I found a place that fit both my and Ella's needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, life is much better. I found an apartment that I can live in and that will take Ella. Not only have I found one, but it is convenient to campus, even closer to the cool area that TM and I lived near, and it's only with one other roommate. The rent is more expensive, but I'll more than make it up in the lower utility bills. There's a backyard! Did I mention the landlord has no problems with Ella? I can't move in until August, but I'll be house sitting for a friend of mine for the summer rent-free. Life is looking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how you don't realize how much burden you're carrying until it's gone? That's what I feel now. My fingers are tingly because my blood is flowing again. Of course, life is nowhere near perfect. I'm still sad, angry, lonely, and missing TM immensely. I just got an email that someone who was diagnosed with active tuberculosis was in a class I took this semester...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I didn't sit near him, so I think I'm safe.&lt;/span&gt; But at least I have a place to live!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what? I just completed one of the worst years of my life to get one year closer to getting my doctorate at Harvard! Hell yeah!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3754467478669542287?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3754467478669542287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3754467478669542287&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3754467478669542287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3754467478669542287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/relax-relate-release.html' title='&quot;Relax, Relate, Release&quot;'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8853264058502586486</id><published>2008-05-15T16:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T17:01:45.213-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>NOW I'm Angry</title><content type='html'>This post is going to be a bit incoherent because I can barely express all that I'm feeling right now. But I need to release in some way and I can't scream because I'm in the library.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am livid at this moment, absolutely enraged. The thing is I don't know if I'm mad at TM or at myself. Perhaps both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm mad at myself for letting this man into my heart when I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knew &lt;/span&gt;he wasn't ready to get down the way I was. All his talk about knowing what he wanted in his life...he's not even 30! How could he know that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm mad at myself for letting this man into my living space without thinking through the consequences. Now it's the middle of May and I've been turned down from yet another apartment situation because I have Ella. Let's not even go into how much more limited my options are because I can't afford to live alone and the possibilities dwindle so much once you check the "dogs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;" box on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;. When TM and I moved to this area, I didn't even consider the possibility that I would have to find a roommate situation that would take dogs. And now, even as I try to find that living situation, one that is close enough to campus so that I can walk Ella, affordable enough so that I won't go broke, and sane enough so that I won't have to sleep with a knife under my pillow...I'm still getting rejected for having a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After almost three years, after spending lots of money in legal fees, and after promising Ella that I would take care of her for the rest of her life, I may have to give her up. And as sad as I am about that possibility, I am even more angry. TM could put my life in disarray; I'll recover. But his actions may cause me to have to give up my dog and I can't believe it. What's worse, I let him do this to me, to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta go to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8853264058502586486?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8853264058502586486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8853264058502586486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8853264058502586486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8853264058502586486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/now-im-angry.html' title='NOW I&apos;m Angry'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-6520951551723909962</id><published>2008-05-13T15:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T15:13:25.261-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grad school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>The Finish Line</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am working on my last final of my first year of my doctorate studies at Harvard University.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have also been dumped by the man I wanted to marry, and I have no idea where I'm going to live next month.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Which one should I focus on? But, which one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt; I focusing on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-6520951551723909962?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/6520951551723909962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=6520951551723909962&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6520951551723909962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6520951551723909962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/finish-line.html' title='The Finish Line'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8712765953955206028</id><published>2008-05-12T17:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T18:23:14.763-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='randomology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>An Update on a "Cult Leader"</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you remember this, but right before I met TM I spent a lame weekend with a dude in Buffalo, NY. It was a crappy weekend, but I got to go to Canada and I saw Niagara Falls. Anyway, we spent one night with this "spiritual guru" that the loser guy was all into, and when I got home, I wrote about my &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2006/10/me-and-cult-leader.html"&gt;reactions to him&lt;/a&gt;, which weren't positive. I went through a range of emotions that night, but ultimately decided that he wasn't for me. It wasn't what he was saying that was so scary, it was what his followers were saying that freaked me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a couple of comments from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bijan&lt;/span&gt; followers telling me that "I didn't understand." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Whatevs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a couple of weeks ago, I started getting a lot of comments to that post; some of them pointed me to the story I'm about to tell you, others were rants defending him. It was weird because I wrote the post a year and a half ago. I am in the middle of finals so I haven't had time to look into it, but I'm wrapping up my 15-page statistics final, so to celebrate I went on a treasure hunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The source is &lt;a href="http://truecrime.tumblr.com/post/34027144"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. This isn't the first time I've been quoted, but my blog is not big like &lt;a href="http://www.tuckergurl.typepad.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tuckergurl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'s, so it's still a bit of a shock when I'm cited on a page I've never visited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason: apparently that "guru" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bijan&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Anjomi&lt;/span&gt; was &lt;a href="http://www.canada.com/topics/news/national/story.html?id=8574f886-bb9d-4de2-ab04-a808ca327a5e"&gt;arrested&lt;/a&gt; last week on three counts of sexual assault to two women during what was supposed to be "personal coaching sessions" with the women. He's 64; the women were 27  and 37. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ick&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that the narcissistic loser from Buffalo was drawn to this snake oil salesmen does not surprise me at all. In fact, I have come across more than my fair share of egotistical men who point to some "great thinker" to justify their selfishness. I'm sick of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope they throw the book at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Bijan&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8712765953955206028?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8712765953955206028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8712765953955206028&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8712765953955206028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8712765953955206028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/update-on-cult-leader.html' title='An Update on a &quot;Cult Leader&quot;'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-1289004594121535028</id><published>2008-05-08T00:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T00:50:54.728-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I Think I Saved Someone's Life Tonight</title><content type='html'>The first year doctoral students had just finished presenting our final research projects to a packed house in one of the school's largest classrooms. We were being treated to a reception in the Commons with appetizers and free booze!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Master's student I knew, not part of our group, had apparently been passed out in the corner of the Commons for almost an hour. No one could see her face and no one thought twice about it. After all, it's Finals Week. Everyone is sleeping and not sleeping at odd times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the reception was winding down, I saw her standing by the food table talking on the phone. I waved at her and said hi. She waved back as I passed her. I looked back...she was still waving and staring at the space I occupied seconds ago. I joked with her: "You can stop waving now," I said with a smile. But she kept waving and kept staring into space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I walked around the table and stood right next to her. I called her name. She had stopped waving, but she wasn't looking at me and her body was as stiff as a board. The phone was still by her ear, but no one was on it. I pulled up a chair and she sunk into it like an anchor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered...seeing her in meetings for a conference we both helped organize. During those meetings, she would pull out a device shaped like an old school Blackberry, prick her finger with some sort of attachment, and stick the stick into the device. Then she would adjust a white rectangular pod on her lower back and press some buttons on the device. I don't know how I knew, but I knew she was managing her diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never seen the negative effects of diabetes...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;except for that scene in &lt;/span&gt;Steel Magnolias, but I was pretty sure she was feeling them at that moment. As I tried to stop her from falling out of the chair, I called out for help. Friends bought her orange juice and a candy bar. The phone that I had pulled out of her hands buzzed and I answered. It was her boyfriend; she had been trying to call him. I told him where we were and asked if what we were doing was okay. Other friends called 911.  All the while, I held the cup of orange juice so she could drink as much of it as possible. Her body was stiff, she was speaking incoherently, and all the while I knew that her eyes shouldn't close. I didn't know why, but I just knew she had to keep awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A firetruck and ambulance arrived. Friends of mine stood outside directing traffic down a narrow one-way street and kept an eye on her boyfriend's car...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;which was parked illegally.&lt;/span&gt; Eventually, she could tell people her name and she knew mine. I left because she started to become aware of the number of people gawking. You could tell the crowd was making her feel uncomfortable and resistant to medical attention. Besides, her boyfriend was by her side at that point trying to make her finish her orange juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way out, I was shaking. I knew she had avoided something horrible, but I still couldn't wrap my brain around it. I was the only person left at the reception who knew her; almost everyone had already left or were on their way out the door. I'm sure the bartenders packing up would have noticed her odd behavior, but I was the only one in that room who knew she had diabetes. What if no one had put it together in time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an email from her tonight thanking me for my help and telling me that I "literally saved [her] life." Apparently, if left on her own for much longer she would have gone into a diabetic coma. Based on my quick internet research, healthy blood sugar levels average around 100, with variance of about 20 points on either side occurring throughout the day. Her blood sugar level was 40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking care of my friend was scary as hell, but so easy. I didn't hesitate to ask for help, to give information to the right people, to be there for her. And I'm so happy she's okay...at least well enough to send emails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so easy to do that for someone else, but for the life of me, I can't seem to do that for myself. These days, I'm feeling like it's a matter of life or death for me as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-1289004594121535028?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/1289004594121535028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=1289004594121535028&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1289004594121535028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/1289004594121535028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-think-i-saved-someones-life-tonight.html' title='I Think I Saved Someone&apos;s Life Tonight'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8144670065313124953</id><published>2008-05-03T13:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T21:37:26.954-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='about me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Ay, There's the Rub</title><content type='html'>I'm being sad today. I showed TM a moment of weakness last night...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't worry, it was only over text message telling him I missed him&lt;/span&gt;. He responded by ignoring me...surprise, surprise. I guess I can't ever show TM my vulnerability again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is...everyone is telling me that I am so great and that I now have made room for the person strong enough to truly support me to come into my life. But I have proven that I am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;horrible&lt;/span&gt; at locating that person. True, TM was worlds better than Ex, but they were the same in that they were incapable of truly being there for me. What if I just don't know what that looks like, that I'm so blind to the right man that I'm doomed to never meet him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As good as I am at lots of things, I'm clearly bad at picking partners. This scares me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8144670065313124953?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8144670065313124953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8144670065313124953&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8144670065313124953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8144670065313124953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/ay-theres-rub.html' title='Ay, There&apos;s the Rub'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5029686420875421119</id><published>2008-05-03T11:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:01:18.590-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reviews'/><title type='text'>The Messiness of 70s Movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SByTx9byM7I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/5j-dIcKZcJk/s1600-h/MV5BNjIyODk4ODAzNF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwMDQ3MzA3._V1._CR0,0,345,345_SS100_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SByTx9byM7I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/5j-dIcKZcJk/s320/MV5BNjIyODk4ODAzNF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwMDQ3MzA3._V1._CR0,0,345,345_SS100_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196190556592681906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the whole, I don't like American movies made in the late 60s and 70s, the ones created by the new wave of filmmakers that portrayed the grittiness of life. I've seen the classics: &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075314/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Taxi Driver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064665/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Midnight Cowboy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, etc., and I watched them more because they were classics than because I dug them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just saw &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0065797/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Great White Hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. It's a movie based on a play (often the best movies). It's a riveting story loosely based on Jack Johnson. The first black heavyweight contender (played by James Earl Jones) at the beginning of the 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; century and a white woman (played by Jane Alexander) fall in love. America responds by basically running them out of town and destroying their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprise, surprise. That's not what's brilliant about this movie. What is so great is how it portrays the blatant racism of American society. It was(is) ugly, and the movie showed it totally bare bones. There was this one great scene that personified my theory of how the powerful stay powerful in this society. Jack is down and out in Mexico; he's a fugitive, no one will box him, he and Eleanor are living in the slums. A federal marshal shows up with the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jefe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of the Mexican village. The marshal barely says a word in the scene, but his presence pits the Mexican sheriff and the black man against each other. The brown men are ready to kill each other to protect their interests threatened by the white man barely saying a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so &lt;/span&gt;couldn't be made today. White people are saying lines like a great white hope needs to win a fight with a horizontal n****r at his feet...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it seems like only black people can say the n-word in movies today. &lt;/span&gt;Jack beats Eleanor with a shirt to avoid punching her. At the end of Jack's last fight, his bloody mouth guard falls out.  It was a deep flick. Make sure you see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5029686420875421119?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5029686420875421119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5029686420875421119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5029686420875421119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5029686420875421119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/messiness-of-70s-movies.html' title='The Messiness of 70s Movies'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SByTx9byM7I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/5j-dIcKZcJk/s72-c/MV5BNjIyODk4ODAzNF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwMDQ3MzA3._V1._CR0,0,345,345_SS100_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-650009886730454401</id><published>2008-04-30T22:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T22:56:14.978-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Conspiracy Theorist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/04/29/us/29wright_650.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/04/29/us/29wright_650.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Call me crazy,  but am I the only one that thinks that &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/29/us/politics/29watc.html"&gt;Rev. Wright&lt;/a&gt; is being paid...by someone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-650009886730454401?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/650009886730454401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=650009886730454401&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/650009886730454401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/650009886730454401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/conspiracy-theorist.html' title='Conspiracy Theorist'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5706586045646061209</id><published>2008-04-29T22:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:25:55.726-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>The Effect of Divorce on the Kids</title><content type='html'>Something I've had to rework is my schedule. One way TM supported me this past year was to walk Ella during the days I was stuck at school for 12 hours or more. Despite TM's arguments to the contrary, they formed a bond. Today was the first day Ella had to spend most of the day alone, without seeing either me or TM for very long. What did she do? She went through one of my bags and literally tried to eat my homework. It was a homework that had already been graded, but still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella misses TM. Probably not as much as I miss him, but Ella lived with him for a year as well. She is acting up because she has become accustomed to his presence and now he's not here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how she feels. It's been two days since I've had any interaction with him and it feels like two weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5706586045646061209?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5706586045646061209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5706586045646061209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5706586045646061209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5706586045646061209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/effect-of-divorce-on-kids.html' title='The Effect of Divorce on the Kids'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2613859476261082604</id><published>2008-04-27T23:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T00:18:08.838-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Zombie</title><content type='html'>I survived the weekend, but I am pretty much in a state of rawness and numbness. The feelings I'm feeling are so intense that I can barely feel them. For example, I just spent several hours watching episodes of "South of Nowhere" on &lt;a href="http://www.the-n.com/theclick/"&gt;the n&lt;/a&gt;...I mean &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;several&lt;/span&gt; hours. Hours I had scheduled to do work. Now it's midnight and the thought of going to bed in an empty house again scares me to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him so much that just thinking about it makes me short of breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But someone just told me that I'm brave and fearless, in that I continue on despite the fear. So I'm just going to take her word for it, try to finish this short paper, and go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2613859476261082604?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2613859476261082604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2613859476261082604&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2613859476261082604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2613859476261082604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/zombie.html' title='Zombie'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5210401365366453932</id><published>2008-04-25T16:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T16:17:00.873-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>This is going to be a rough weekend</title><content type='html'>TM moves out this weekend. He has a lot of his stuff packed already. He's going to use the car to save money on moving costs. He also doesn't have a lot of furniture to move, so it should be straight forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been pretty much a zombie today. I got on campus and broke down in the arms of my friend. I am feeling the break-up all over again...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;which I knew I would.&lt;/span&gt; As I told my friend, TM and I were supposed to travel through our lives &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;together&lt;/span&gt;. Wherever he went, I was going to go; and vice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;versa&lt;/span&gt;. That's how I interpreted him moving to Boston with me. It sucks &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so much&lt;/span&gt; that he didn't see it that way...that he's moving out and I'm not going with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the advice of another friend, I'm keeping myself busy this weekend. I'm going to work all day and night today. Tomorrow night, I'm going to a party. Sunday, I plan on working out and going to the library. It probably won't help, but at least I'll get work done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention how much this sucks?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5210401365366453932?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5210401365366453932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5210401365366453932&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5210401365366453932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5210401365366453932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/this-is-going-to-be-rough-weekend.html' title='This is going to be a rough weekend'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3213488910992783716</id><published>2008-04-24T15:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T15:53:24.972-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><title type='text'>Colson's New Career</title><content type='html'>Colson Whitehead remains a writer, a damn fine one...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;though I could not finish &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Apex Hides the Hurt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; to save my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. But I think he's taking on a new writing medium and it makes me happy. He's written two articles for the New York &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; that I know of. The first one was about being a writer in &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/02/books/review/Whitehead-t.html?scp=6&amp;amp;sq=colson+whitehead&amp;amp;st=nyt"&gt;Brooklyn&lt;/a&gt; and it was simultaneously insightful, angry, and hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/24/opinion/24whitehead.html?ex=1209700800&amp;amp;en=94f2cd9f6338efc8&amp;amp;ei=5070&amp;amp;emc=eta1"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;...this one is awesome. It puts up a huge mirror to the hypocritical race talk around this presidential race. It's also one of the most eloquent "f*ck you's" I have ever read. Please everyone read it, then use the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Times&lt;/span&gt; website to send it to everyone else. That way it will become the most emailed article and then more people will read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then talk about it: with me through comments, with your own blog, with friends, family, and  co-workers.  It's important. I recently found out that a person who I thought "got it" in terms of race in this country doesn't really get it at all. It was a very upsetting realization. People so need to get it, and not just in some theoretical, intellectual framework. In a real way that affects their lives. That's what Obama is doing: he is making race real for a bunch of people who would prefer it to stay an theoretical construct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colson is helping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3213488910992783716?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3213488910992783716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3213488910992783716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3213488910992783716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3213488910992783716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/colsons-new-career.html' title='Colson&apos;s New Career'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7431388444643197895</id><published>2008-04-23T17:54:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T21:39:12.616-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Read in the Elevator of Harvard's Health Center</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;"April is the cruelest month, breeding&lt;br /&gt;Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing&lt;br /&gt;Memory and desire, stirring&lt;br /&gt;Dull roots with spring."&lt;/blockquote&gt;                                            -T. S. Eliot, "The Waste Land"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7431388444643197895?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7431388444643197895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7431388444643197895&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7431388444643197895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7431388444643197895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/read-in-elevator-of-harvards-health.html' title='Read in the Elevator of Harvard&apos;s Health Center'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5002481771791907889</id><published>2008-04-23T09:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T09:29:17.253-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><title type='text'>On Top of Everything Else...</title><content type='html'>I think I'm developing carpal tunnel syndrome in my left wrist because of the shocks I'm feeling when I ride my new bike.  Great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5002481771791907889?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5002481771791907889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5002481771791907889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5002481771791907889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5002481771791907889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-top-of-everything-else.html' title='On Top of Everything Else...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-6934302877503755371</id><published>2008-04-22T08:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T09:23:35.776-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>A Trigger</title><content type='html'>My cognitive therapist has been teaching me tools to better understand why I think and act the way I do.  I absolutely LOVE it. Anyway, he made me aware of triggers: stimuli that cause an extreme emotional reaction in me, so extreme that I become flooded with emotions I can't explain or even describe. It's very hard to identify the trigger because: 1. while you're being flooded, it's hard to even remember your name, and 2. when you're not triggered, you don't want to go back to that place lest you become triggered again. It's a meticulous, careful, and caring process to break the pattern apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I've made the first step. I realize the thought of TM leaving me for another person is a trigger. This morning, TM was wearing his cologne. He hasn't worn it in a long time. My mind immediately starts to race, filled with images of how he's trying to impress another woman. Then I start thinking..&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.He's been waiting to be free of me so he can pursue this other woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not saying that I'm not justified in my anger. I asked him point-blank on the day we broke up if there was another woman in the mix and he said "no." So if I find out that he was willing to work on things until he saw another option and then just decided to bail...well I don't&lt;br /&gt;think I could ever face him again if he betrayed me like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not okay that my mind immediately jumps to the fact that he's getting it on with some woman from work in the broom closet; that he spends all his time with her complaining about what an awful girlfriend I was; that he feels so much &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;freer&lt;/span&gt; now that I'm gone. Because those thoughts just send me into a tailspin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took the first step. I have another therapist appointment next week...I'll let you know what the second step is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-6934302877503755371?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/6934302877503755371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=6934302877503755371&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6934302877503755371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/6934302877503755371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/trigger.html' title='A Trigger'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-3662734256743125328</id><published>2008-04-21T22:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T23:09:49.046-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>A Caveat</title><content type='html'>Pre-script: This is more for me than anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to state for the record that TM is not a bad person. He is not the man I thought he was, but he isn't the man &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; thought he was either. I'd imagine that's harder for him to deal with than it is for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TM decided that he wanted other things more than he wanted me. Of course, I wish he realized this a year ago before we moved in together, before we made plans together, before we talked about how we would raise our children, before I began to see my future with him. And of course, I wish I saw his struggles with commitment for what they were and not romanticized them into some sort of symbolic journey to make his way to me. I wish he listened to me as much as he listened to his aunt. I wish he talked to me as much as he talked to his best friend. I wish he would have given couples' counseling a chance. I wish....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress. TM...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for now&lt;/span&gt;...is not Ex. He is not leaving me for another woman who he had sex with while we were together. He is not saying this is all my fault. He has treated me badly during this process, but he trying not to...&lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/remind-me.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;see earlier post&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...and I haven't always taken the high road.  I know that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;trying&lt;/span&gt; not to disrespect me isn't enough, but it's something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very angry and hurt and sad now; that is what it is. But I have to remind myself that I did love something about this person, and that wasn't a mistake. My love is never a mistake, even if other people treat it as such.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-3662734256743125328?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/3662734256743125328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=3662734256743125328&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3662734256743125328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/3662734256743125328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/caveat.html' title='A Caveat'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7304587639390853498</id><published>2008-04-21T21:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T22:09:19.678-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Things Are Falling Into Place, Housing-Wise</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;TM was incredibly cruel to me Saturday. Hurt me so badly, I felt like I was kicked in the stomach. Ended up retching over the toilet. He sort of apologized&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...in a text message&lt;/span&gt;...and we are civil, but I have seen the dark side. If a man who said he loved me just a few short weeks ago could do what he did to me and then barely acknowledge it, then he really isn't ready for a relationship with someone like me. Though I don't understand it...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and D tells me that I should stop trying&lt;/span&gt;...I have accepted the fact that TM is actually this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-empathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The above action spurred me into action. I started packing a bag for Ella and me, but then decided that he should leave early. I don't know how I'm going to cover the part of his rent that I'll have to, but it's worth it to have him out of the house while I mourn and finish up my semester in my own apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The couple that lives below us just called and said they want to move into our place! So we don't have to find a new tenant...they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The perfect apartment is available June 1...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my moving day&lt;/span&gt;, I just have to wait until the landlords come back from vacation and win them over in an interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've got another interview for an apartment on Wednesday, and people are responding to my emails.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Is it crazy that I still miss him so much and wish we were still together?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-7304587639390853498?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/7304587639390853498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=7304587639390853498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7304587639390853498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/7304587639390853498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/things-are-falling-into-place-housing.html' title='Things Are Falling Into Place, Housing-Wise'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-508196819059776255</id><published>2008-04-19T11:42:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T12:15:33.718-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Remind Me...</title><content type='html'>..to NEVER, EVER, EVER live with another man unless we are engaged first. Not talking about marriage, not considering it, not if he says, "I see moving in together as a step toward marriage." We must be engaged FIRST. Even then, I still might wait until we're married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna know why? Because good men become *ssholes during a break-up. You would think that if the break-up didn't involving treating the other person like shyte, it would be easy to keep doing the same while you try and go your separate ways. Boy, am I wrong. Men become liars and they become mean. They tell you one thing and tell others something else entirely. They say they are "fond" of you, but still do things that are totally disrespectful of you and what you both shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is: I wouldn't know any of this if we didn't live together. If I wasn't in the middle of finals, and if my stuff wasn't all over this house, and if we didn't have tons of stuff that we bought together, if I had the time to just pack up and go. I would just deal with my heartache in my own place and not know what he's doing in his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next time I fall in love, remind me that I am NOT to move in with him. Even if he says "we should be living together." Even if he's willing to relocate to live with me. If he's thinking about marrying me, then he will marry me. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thinking &lt;/span&gt;about marriage is no longer good enough for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-508196819059776255?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/508196819059776255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=508196819059776255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/508196819059776255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/508196819059776255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/remind-me.html' title='Remind Me...'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2664254302873030072</id><published>2008-04-17T08:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T08:52:54.676-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Fending off the Fears</title><content type='html'>This week was all right...until yesterday. Partly this was because I hadn't been getting enough sleep due to work. So I thought I would just crash early last night and then feel better. However, I slept for eight hours and woke up with a headache. I then just wrote an email to the couples counselor we met with one time telling her we need to cancel our appointments in May, and the floodgates started up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS SUCKS SO BADLY!!! &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I can't believe I have to be grammatically correct even when things are sucking so badly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if my whole "taking it one day at a time" modus operandi is just me faking it? What if I'm deluding myself that I'll be okay when depression is creeping up on me? Is saying "I can't get depressed" enough to not get depressed? Am I playing mind games with myself and losing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate that on top of all that I have to deal with right now, I also have to deal with monitoring my mental health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I have a wish: I wish someone close to TM, like a family member or his best friend, said to him: &lt;blockquote&gt;"TM, you are making a mistake. I know it's hard, but the point of life is finding a balance between making a connection with someone else and staying true to yourself. L. Britt is a wonderful, funny, supportive, and caring woman. You are lucky she loves you. Don't let her go."&lt;/blockquote&gt; I've said it to him, but I'm a little biased. Most of his crew is supporting his decision however, because that's what your crew is supposed to do. I just wish someone wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2664254302873030072?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2664254302873030072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2664254302873030072&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2664254302873030072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2664254302873030072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/fending-off-fears.html' title='Fending off the Fears'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4464941297773781637</id><published>2008-04-16T11:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T08:31:16.871-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='physical health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>A Grown-Up Epiphany</title><content type='html'>I have not been exercising lately. I figured that I didn't have the time/energy, what with finishing up all my work for the semester, downsizing my stuff (my new apartment will either be tiny or be a shared space), and looking for a new apartment. Besides, I deserve to lay like a slug...I just got dumped!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I had an epiphany this morning. The kind of epiphany that only comes from being a grown-up: If I were to stop exercising, I would only be hurting myself. Because if I'm going to be blue, I might as well look good while I do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, a side goal of all this is to make TM regret that he ended things; looking good will only enhance that regret. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This part of my epiphany is not very grown-up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-4464941297773781637?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/4464941297773781637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=4464941297773781637&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4464941297773781637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/4464941297773781637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/grown-up-epiphany.html' title='A Grown-Up Epiphany'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2609917264872578137</id><published>2008-04-10T19:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T19:31:28.400-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial demons'/><title type='text'>Perfect Timing</title><content type='html'>Remember when I said that I was going to start my very &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/03/windfall.html"&gt;first emergency fund&lt;/a&gt; with my substantial tax refund? It seems it came at the perfect time. I just &lt;a href="https://sa1.www4.irs.gov/irfof/lang/en/irfofgetstatus.jsp"&gt;checked&lt;/a&gt; the status of my refund and it's being deposited into my account this Friday. I realized that I am financially free to move out of the apartment. I can cover moving costs, a security deposit, and first month's rent of any apartment situation that I figure out I can afford.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I tell you how wonderful this feeling is? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; is the feeling of freedom. I had all these self-indulgent plans for part of that money: either a flat-screen TV, a solo vacation, or a spring shopping spree. But acquiring more stuff (read: shyte) would not make me feel as good as this does. As soon as TM and I figure out what to do with our apartment, I can move when I find another living situation. There will be no asking my parents for money they don't have, no using my credit cards, no feeling trapped until I "save enough." I won't even have to wait for the stimulus package money or until our security deposit comes back to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am very lucky because I didn't really save this money, though my life decisions did create it (i.e., buying property and renting it out and returning to school). Whatever. It's my money and in this situation, money is freedom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-2609917264872578137?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/2609917264872578137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=2609917264872578137&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2609917264872578137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/2609917264872578137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/perfect-timing.html' title='Perfect Timing'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-306889221681921653</id><published>2008-04-09T15:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T15:39:32.675-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Knocking on Wood</title><content type='html'>I'm surprising myself these days...I'm actually functioning in the wake of this major break-up. Don't get me wrong, I cry everyday. Right now, it's at about three episodes a day. But I have not cried in public...by avoiding talking about it to people I don't trust. I am getting my work done, if a little distractedly. I did a major presentation today and I think it went pretty well. I've met with my stats partner, done readings for class, and shown up for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, my cognitive therapy is really helping me deal with this. Whenever I get upset about what's been lost, I just remind myself that we broke up because we wanted different things. Of course, if he ends up engaged six months from now I'll lose my shyte! But for now, I'm going to believe that he thinks "I'm very excellent," but just doesn't want to commit. And everyone is right, I have been through too much not to be with someone who will trip over himself to propose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living with TM is pretty hard, mainly because it's not hard at all. Does that make sense? We get along so well, that it's hard to not engage with him on the same level I used to.  I miss him so much and he's right there. These days, it's my skin that misses him the most...not sexually, though. I miss his kisses hello and goodbye, his coming up behind me while I'm cooking, our cuddling on the couch. Just his touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are sleeping in separate rooms and we're going to talk about moving out this weekend. I thought I could handle living with him for the next 4 months, but I realized...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mainly through my friend D kicking me in the ass with reminders of the last time&lt;/span&gt;...that it's not good for me to be in the same space. I was rationalizing my fear of making the break-up real by moving out by saying we were "stuck" with the lease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So overall, I'm proud of myself. I'm a mess, but I'm functioning. Of course, I reserve the right to write another post filled with self-pity and loathing about the state of my loneliness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-306889221681921653?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/306889221681921653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=306889221681921653&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/306889221681921653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/306889221681921653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/knocking-on-wood.html' title='Knocking on Wood'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8070066848759053877</id><published>2008-04-07T13:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:01:19.058-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snapshots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pop culture'/><title type='text'>The Last Sighting of a Single Jay-Z!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/R_pYvB_C4rI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Js5-X7RxvHA/s1600-h/heartofcity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/R_pYvB_C4rI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Js5-X7RxvHA/s320/heartofcity.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186555485880509106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been so wrapped up in my personal drama that I didn't get a chance to tell you that I went to this concert Thursday night. I can't believe that Jay-Z got married the next day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom took me because she loves &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;MJB&lt;/span&gt; and had never seen her live. She wanted to attend the concert with someone who would enjoy it as much as she would and let her get her groove with abandon. We got great seats; we could see everything clear as day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Mary when I was in college...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tuckergurl.typepad.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tuckergurl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, do you remember this?&lt;/span&gt; She did a show with some one-hit wonder groups and Biggie Smalls. I remember a young and crazy Puff Daddy just ran back and forth behind Biggie wearing that bright yellow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Versace&lt;/span&gt; shirt. Anyway, Mary was  younger then and her voice wasn't as refined as it is now, but she tore it up Thursday night with the same intensity as she did more than 12 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know Jay-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Z's&lt;/span&gt; music as well as I know Mary's, but the practically sold out, predominately white audience sure did. There was a huge screen behind the stage that served as the "set" of the show, displaying the skyline of NYC, close-ups of the band and the performers, and other graphics. It was basically a giant music video for the live music going on. Sometimes the camera would turn on the audience and pan over them. These young, busty girls and wanna-be-down boys were rapping all the words to his songs, and not just the chorus, either! My mom was shocked at how many white people knew their music. I told her, "This is the definition of cross-over."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, we had a great time. Both Mary and Jay-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Z's&lt;/span&gt; songs sounded better live than they do on CD...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;or MP3&lt;/span&gt;...and they had great stage presence. Jay-Z would get the entire arena...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost 20,000 seats!&lt;/span&gt;...to pump his diamond sign with their hands. Mary didn't even have to sing "I'm Going Down," the whole place belted out all the words. I must say, I joined in wholeheartedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the night, I was exhausted. It was great to release and let music take you over. That hasn't happened for a while and it felt damn good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-8070066848759053877?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/8070066848759053877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=8070066848759053877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8070066848759053877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/8070066848759053877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/last-sighting-of-single-jay-z.html' title='The Last Sighting of a Single Jay-Z!'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/R_pYvB_C4rI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Js5-X7RxvHA/s72-c/heartofcity.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-5313849088402356307</id><published>2008-04-06T21:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T15:39:53.955-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mental health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sunday musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='endings'/><title type='text'>Ripping Off the Band-Aid</title><content type='html'>I'm announcing it to the world to make it real: my &lt;a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-doesnt-look-good.html"&gt;prediction&lt;/a&gt; came to pass...TM and I are no longer together.  We fought the good fight, but ultimately TM decided that he couldn't be with me and pursue his dreams simultaneously; the stress of it was too much. I tried to convince him that our rough patch was temporary and that I could be there as he fulfilled his dreams, but ultimately he didn't buy it. Ultimately, I got tired of trying to convince him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hurt, sad, angry, and scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared that I am in my mid-30s and "back on the market;" that doesn't bode well. I'm sad that the best relationship I've ever been a part of is over. I'm mad that TM didn't even let us go to the two couple counseling sessions we had scheduled, especially after the first one was so good. I'm scared that I am physically incapable of having a relationship last more than 18 months. I'm hurt by the idea that I convinced him to pursue his passion and I get kicked to the curb because of it. I'm angry that he did this when I have a 20-minute presentation due in two days and we have 5 months left on the lease. I'm hurt that TM doesn't seem to be hurting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing I'm not scared of is becoming depressed again. My rationale goes: if I survived the worst relationship...and &lt;a href="http://brittplace.blogspot.com/"&gt;break-up&lt;/a&gt;...I've ever had, I can certainly survive this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, if I decide to quit Harvard, I want it to be on my terms, so it behooves me to do well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18659479-5313849088402356307?l=buddhaquote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/feeds/5313849088402356307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18659479&amp;postID=5313849088402356307&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5313849088402356307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18659479/posts/default/5313849088402356307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/04/ripping-off-band-aid.html' title='Ripping Off the Band-Aid'/><author><name>L. Britt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SY4Jm3zQs_I/AAAAAAAAAPA/d_3WIIvgnEM/S220/P1170009.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
