<?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-6089142827115045243</id><updated>2012-02-16T16:56:45.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Today, Tomorrow and Yesterday</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-6055913744339401819</id><published>2009-09-23T01:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T00:53:48.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just quotes i wanted to save somewhere</title><content type='html'>"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." ~Maya Angelou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I carry you with me into the world, &lt;br /&gt;into the smell of rain &lt;br /&gt;&amp; the words that dance between people &lt;br /&gt;&amp; for me, it will always be this way, &lt;br /&gt;walking in the light, &lt;br /&gt;remembering being alive together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held her close for only a short time, but after she was gone, I'd see her smile on the face of a perfect stranger &amp; I knew she would be there with me all the rest of my days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is still so new &amp; all we see is the empty space, but that is not how it is in the landscape of the heart. There, there is no empty space &amp; she still laughs &amp; grapples with ideas &amp; plans &amp; nods wisely with each of us in turn. We are proud to have known her. We are proud to have called her friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, "you owe me". Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.&lt;br /&gt;-Hafiz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-6055913744339401819?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/6055913744339401819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=6055913744339401819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6055913744339401819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6055913744339401819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/09/just-quotes-i-wanted-to-save-somewhere.html' title='Just quotes i wanted to save somewhere'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-3134698411074827457</id><published>2009-09-21T12:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T12:30:03.201-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life as of Lately</title><content type='html'>Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is going well.  Only taking four classes, the way I like it. I'm taking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social Welfare Policies and Services&lt;br /&gt;Human Behavior in the Social Environment&lt;br /&gt;Philosophies and Religions of India&lt;br /&gt;Race Relations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My policy and philsophy classes are the most challenging.  The Philosophy class is my first 400 level course and it's so much reading that I think I'll need glasses by the end of the semester. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved onto Market street at the beginning of August.  I like being in town because if I'm bored I can walk out of my front door and there is always something to do.  Yesterday was the restaurant festival where they shut down Gay street and the restaurants all set up stands and hand out free food.  I missed it, though, because it was the Eagles first game, but they only disappointed me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been searching everywhere for a job!  The bad economy is affecting me in this aspect because it is really impossible to get hired right now.  I know a few other people trying to find jobs who have not had luck for months like me.  I've applied at restaurants, salons, rec centers, banks, you name it.  I did find a job opportunity on Craigslist but it is in Malvern and thats about twenty-thirty minutes from here so I don't think it'd be worth minimum wage.  Sigh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although times have been hard recently because of my lack of money/food, I've had a lot of help from friends.  My mom has been struggling herself but manages to give me twenty dollars every now and then if I don't have any food left and she got me a meal plan (although its the lowest one) but it does help out to have a free meal every other day or so.  Yesterday Kyle gave me a huge box full of canned foods, vegetables, pasta, etc. that will probably last me two to three weeks.  I'm learning how to manage my money when it comes to food and only buying things that can be used for multiple meals.  So...I can't complain, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come later, maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-3134698411074827457?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/3134698411074827457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=3134698411074827457' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3134698411074827457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3134698411074827457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-as-of-lately.html' title='Life as of Lately'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-8913410721085843840</id><published>2009-09-20T16:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T16:07:30.504-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Its been awhile.</title><content type='html'>When I first met him, I knew in a moment I would have to spend the next few days re-arranging my mind so there'd be room for him to stay.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard to update anymore because when your heart is broken, there is nothing else to write about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-8913410721085843840?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/8913410721085843840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=8913410721085843840' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8913410721085843840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8913410721085843840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-been-awhile.html' title='Its been awhile.'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-8220898852148690125</id><published>2009-05-25T17:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T17:52:18.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>http://www.slide.com/r/WCwoRelR2j-jdS2neLWocxqckIYuDPaC?current_view=TICKER&amp;previous_view=TICKER_MENU_SHARE&amp;previous_action=SHARE&amp;cid=72057594048699144&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-8220898852148690125?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/8220898852148690125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=8220898852148690125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8220898852148690125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8220898852148690125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/05/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5717299130574581525</id><published>2009-03-21T15:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T15:14:25.881-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Thursday and Friday were horrible horrible days for me.  How did everything seem to be under control then all of a sudden snowball into this?  Friday morning around 3:30am, my friend from work's house caught on fire.  She lost her eighteen month old baby boy in the fire.  My heart is broken for her.  Last week she was telling me how adorable he was at the bowling alley and how he would push the ball down the lane and then chase after it.  I can't stop thinking about her and how she must be feeling.  His funeral is on Tuesday and I'm going to go with Lex.  This will be the third funeral for a child under the age of seven that I've been to in the past five years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone, please make sure you put smoke alarms in your house, and if you already have them- test the batteries.  And please keep my friend in your thoughts.  I can't imagine what she is dealing with right this second.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5717299130574581525?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5717299130574581525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5717299130574581525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5717299130574581525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5717299130574581525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/03/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-7951215318394059679</id><published>2009-03-19T21:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T21:15:43.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'>kfc</title><content type='html'>KFC mashed potatoes and gravy have saved my day.  It was really horrible, actually.  Probably the worst day I've had this school year, definitely in 2009.  BUT comfort food and roommates know how to make me happy.  And once again, I'm so lucky to have friends in times like this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is pretty pointless.  Sorry.I always X them out but I think I'll just post this one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-7951215318394059679?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/7951215318394059679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=7951215318394059679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7951215318394059679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7951215318394059679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/03/kfc.html' title='kfc'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5139428359725632523</id><published>2009-03-09T09:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:14:59.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OBX, coincidences and John Lennon</title><content type='html'>Spring break is officially over.  I went to the Outer banks with my roommates Erin and Kristina and our two friends Kyle and Rodney.  We had a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been noticing a lot of coincidences/deja vu type events.  For example, while driving back from North Carolina on Saturday, I kept realizing that I was always the last one.  There were never cars behind me but always cars in front of me.  Whenever I stopped at a light, I would be fourth or fifth in line but ALWAYS last.  I focused on being the last car a little obsessively, as I kept checking my mirrors at every light or stop to see if anyone was going to come up behind me.  I didn't say anything to Rodney or Kristina, though.  Then yesterday, I was riding in the passenger's seat of my friend Kyle's truck and he pointed out that he is always the last car to be waiting at lights...that he always thinks about how weird it is that cars are always in front of him and never behind him.  I was so shocked to hear him say that that I basically screamed ME TOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the days I was in OBX, I was relaxing and "getting profound".  I found myself thinking about what are the biggest effects our environment has on people which lead me to think about exposure.  I thought about censorship and what types of things I was/was not exposed to as a child.  I remembered watching the Columbine shooting live at Miss. Jean's (my babysitter) house.  I thought about how seeing that at nine years old may or may not have been right.  Then, about an hour later, we turned on the tv to find a special on E about the most brutal public shoot-outs in our country's past.  Columbine was ranked second while Virginia Tech came in first.  It was really uncanny, though, because I rarely ever think about Columbine anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't coincidental or anything, but driving back from OBX I saw a man walking on an overpass.  I was looking at him from far away because he was walking pretty slow looking up at the sky.  He stopped in the middle and looked down right as I was about to drive under him and he looked exactly like John Lennon!  He had the round glasses, the long hair, facial hair..but too bad he died in 1980 and even if he hadn't, he wouldn't look like he did in his thirties!  But, some part of me likes to think that maybe it was him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though most of you don't know why, please send me some luck today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5139428359725632523?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5139428359725632523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5139428359725632523' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5139428359725632523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5139428359725632523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/03/obx-coincidences-and-john-lennon.html' title='OBX, coincidences and John Lennon'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4887910486721115802</id><published>2009-02-28T11:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:31:51.764-05:00</updated><title type='text'>101 Things About Me</title><content type='html'>Everyone else is doing it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.     I only like even numbers, although the number 21 has always been appealing to me (not because of the age)&lt;br /&gt;2.     I drive a two-door toyota echo- it looks like a spaceship on the inside but everyone tells me the outside resembles me.  i didnt use to agree but i'm starting to.&lt;br /&gt;3.     My favorite classes always tend to be the ones I get the most work in- guess thats a good thing though!&lt;br /&gt;4.     I got fired from my last job at saladworks but i like my new job a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;5.     I used to love winter/snow/everything else it entails but after this winter i HATE it and realize I might have Seasonal Affective Disorder. &lt;br /&gt;6.     I started eating bacon- I like turkey bacon more though.&lt;br /&gt;7.     A lot of people think I have a weird "diet" but its really that I'm just a picky eater.&lt;br /&gt;8.     I absolutely hate the texture of cooked mushrooms in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;9.     This Valentines Day was the first time I've ever received anything from a guy.  I got a dozen of roses and a really soft puppet that sings "Love Will Keep Us Together" its adorable&lt;br /&gt;10.  I never was interested in motorcycles until more recently and now i'm sure that i want to own one.  the high i get from riding on a motorcycle doesnt compare to any other.&lt;br /&gt;11. I have never truly worked my HARDEST until this year of school.  Last semester I got great grades and this semester I think they'll be just as good if not better.  &lt;br /&gt;12.  I never knew that improving my grades would make me have a better self-image.&lt;br /&gt;13.  I can see the football stadium from my living room window (i'm looking at it now) but i've only been to ONE football game since ive been here at west chester.&lt;br /&gt;14.  I do not download music illegally. *this was gills but true for me too!&lt;br /&gt;15.  I learned Plato's Theory of Forms in my philosophy class this semester.  I think about what he stated in his theory ALL THE TIME before I knew it was his.&lt;br /&gt;16.  I keep 42 cents in each pocket of my coat.  You have no idea how many times that 84 cents has saved me!&lt;br /&gt;17. I'm dating someone 5 years older than me.  &lt;br /&gt;18.  I love McDonalds breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;19.  Money is my biggest stress.&lt;br /&gt;20.  I hope to be as good of a mom as mine is and unintentionally think at least once a day about how to be a good mom.&lt;br /&gt;21.  A girl that lives in my apartment building, whose name I don't even know, has been heard saying bad things about me multiple times.  I dont know why she doesn't like me, we've never talked past hellos and I always try to be friendly, but last night I confronted her for the first time. The whole situation is strange. I didnt know college had bullies? haha&lt;br /&gt;22.  Right now there is no where legal for me to park my car at school so I move it close to three times a day to avoid towing or a ticket.  its becoming a little ridiculous.  &lt;br /&gt;23. i should be doing school work right now, but i feel like this is a good way to release some stress so i'm not worrying about it.&lt;br /&gt;24.  I loved my public speaking class but hate publicly speaking.&lt;br /&gt;25. Grottos pizza is my favorite kind.&lt;br /&gt;26. I eat subs (hoagies) like its my job.  I love turkey BLTs and just cheese subs the most.&lt;br /&gt;27.  Two of my favorite places to be in the world are located in my small, home state of Delaware.  &lt;br /&gt;28.  They are valley gardens (wait, i'm just realizing, this may be in PA, oops!) and on the dock behind the Bay Resort in Rehobeth beach, DE.  &lt;br /&gt;29.  I feel most at home when on the Chesapeake Bay.&lt;br /&gt;30.  I've had my breath taken away more times by nature than by people.  Sunsets tend to do it.&lt;br /&gt;31.  I LOVE chicken salad, gill!&lt;br /&gt;32.  I often worry about where my next meal will come from- no lie...which relates back to my number one stress of money.&lt;br /&gt;33.  I love Law and Order SVU...the guy i'm seeing is the only other person i know who has seen every episode!&lt;br /&gt;34.  Clarification: he isn't my boyfriend, we are best friends who are very attracted to one another but i'm totes okay with that :)&lt;br /&gt;35.  I really like General Tso's chicken with vegetable fried rice.&lt;br /&gt;36.  My shower curtain has bamboo on it &lt;br /&gt;37.  I started this three days ago and just now got back to it.&lt;br /&gt;38.  When I was really young, probably 7 or 8, I always wanted to be Ginger from Gilligan's Island.&lt;br /&gt;39.  I never liked drinking milk much until recently. &lt;br /&gt;40.  I like listening to talk shows on the radio in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;41.  I keep a stereo in my bathroom and almost always listen to music while I'm showering (and sing along!)&lt;br /&gt;42.  I can't imagine what I'd do without my mom...she keeps me grounded and is my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;43.  I would much rather stay in with a cup of tea and snuggle while watching a movie then go out or drink on any given night.&lt;br /&gt;44.  My favorite drink by FAR is a vanilla chai tea latte and always will be...nothing compares!&lt;br /&gt;45.  I got in a car accident two weeks ago in the snow. She hit me on 202, but I only told three people and didn't call the police because she was so apologetic and her car was much more damaged than mine.  I have a lot of pity for strangers.&lt;br /&gt;46.  A man in his late seventies or eighties asked me for my number in the most non-creepy, cutest way while I was working on Sunday night.  When I declined and said I couldn't give it out to customers, he handed me a five dollar tip instead.  Adorable!&lt;br /&gt;47.  That's another thing- I have a huge soft spot for old men.  Love em!&lt;br /&gt;48.  I cannot WAIT to travel after college and want to dedicate at least a year to it (if I have the money which is a slim chance!)&lt;br /&gt;49.  I hate thongs and don't care if you can see my underwear line...whats the big deal??&lt;br /&gt;50.  Today I'm getting my hair cut and debating either a trim or a major cut of 7 to 8 inches.&lt;br /&gt;51.  Right now I have a 97% in my hardest class, but B's or A-'s in my easier ones because I put most of my effort into the first!&lt;br /&gt;52.  I love candles.  There is something I find so relaxing about the shadows they cast on walls.  When I was a kid, I would burn little tea-light candles almost every night.  &lt;br /&gt;53.  One time I caught my book shelf on fire by leaving a candle burning while I was out on the balcony of my mom's old apartment.  &lt;br /&gt;54. I moved a good bit as a kid, but the home I grew up the most in (on Knowles Road) we moved out of when my parents divorced...the new family moving in was of a girl in my class and I became extremely jealous of her and always held that against her throughout the rest of my school years.  &lt;br /&gt;55.  Before we moved out, I signed my name in my bedroom closet with a Sharpie marker really small in the corner.  I wonder if its still there.&lt;br /&gt;56.  This morning I did a little shopping at Rite-Aid..I put 75% off clearance stickers on half of the stuff I bought that I took off of other items..it worked but now I feel a little guilty! (I saved over 17 bucks!)&lt;br /&gt;57.  I have a really bad stereotype against cops that I need to work on.&lt;br /&gt;58.  I like to reminisce about the past a little too much.&lt;br /&gt;59.  I'm dying to get another tattoo, but forcing myself to wait until I'm sure of what I want.&lt;br /&gt;60.  My sister is coming home for spring break next wednesday and I'm really excited to hang out with her! (and Em of course!!)&lt;br /&gt;61.  I've never cracked my fingers but one of my friends always does it for me and I freak out. &lt;br /&gt;62.  I have been having a recurring dream about a guy wearing a red shirt/red baseball cap driving a red car and his name is Jason.  I don't know any Jasons though!&lt;br /&gt;63.  M.A.S.H. was always a big show in my house..my dad and his dad both love the show.  My grandfather even has a big M.A.S.H. poster framed in his bedroom! &lt;br /&gt;64.  I had a beta fish named Tupac who turned evil after I forgot to feed him a few times..or a week.. but anyways, our relationship was so bad that I had to give him to my roommate to keep.&lt;br /&gt;65. I really like singing and wish I had a better voice.&lt;br /&gt;66.  I hate having cold feet and hands!&lt;br /&gt;67.  Last night I was at the Abington YMCA and tons of old memories rushed back to me of old winter rallies.&lt;br /&gt;68.  The other night at work I balanced my boss's check book.  Strange? I think..&lt;br /&gt;69.  I LOVE boats but have a huge fear of the ocean.  The fear has more to do with waves than the ocean itself.&lt;br /&gt;70.  When I was 13, I saw a girl run out of the ocean with a huge jelly-fish covering her whole face.  &lt;br /&gt;71.  Weird things happen to me and my family on a regular basis.  Really weird things.&lt;br /&gt;72.  I love sports and miss playing one.&lt;br /&gt;73.  I get really irritated when there isn't anything good to listen to in the car.&lt;br /&gt;74.  My bellybutton ring fell out a few weeks ago and I didn't buy a new one because I feel like I grew out of it.&lt;br /&gt;75.  I'm very picky about what I put on my set of keys.  The only things other than keys that are on the rings are a leather keychain Nick Fortunatus bought for me in Capri, Italy, the keychain I gave out for my last vesper, and a silver whistle Nick Wood gave me my senior year.&lt;br /&gt;76.  I know a good bit about music thanks to my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;77.  I'm craving a bobby- for those of you who don't know its a thanksgiving hoagie with turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce!&lt;br /&gt;78.  My middle name is Amanda, but when I meet Amandas I never think of that.&lt;br /&gt;79.  I'm not worried about getting older...I think of all the fun things like cooking big Thanksgiving dinners for my extended family (see- cant get thanksgiving food off my mind!!)&lt;br /&gt;80.  I get irritated easily and am trying to work on that.&lt;br /&gt;81.  It scares my cat when i crack my back because its so loud.&lt;br /&gt;82.  Lavender is one of my favorite scents. &lt;br /&gt;83.  One of my biggest weaknesses has to do with E.L. Fudge cookies. And now they make them double-stuffed!&lt;br /&gt;84.  I'm a very observant person and usually notice when someone in my class got their hair cut, a new bag, etc.&lt;br /&gt;85.  Mr. Smith, my junior year English teacher, was one of the best teachers I've ever had even though I hated the class.&lt;br /&gt;86.  In the 80's, America was ranked 3rd for having the smartest population in the world.  Since then, we've dropped all the way back to 18th.  I know thats not a fact about me but I think a lot about why that is.&lt;br /&gt;87.  I'm about to dye my hair out of a box (which I got on sale thanks to those clearance stickers! ha)&lt;br /&gt;88.  I usually really like cafeteria or hospital food and lucky for me I'm meeting my mom at Riddle today to have lunch! haha&lt;br /&gt;89.  I'm still very very bitter about whoever stole my iPod..AT PACAA.  If your out there- it is greatly missed and Karma will be after you.&lt;br /&gt;90.  My favorite colors to wear are navy, brown and black.  I don't like wearing colors.&lt;br /&gt;91.  I think ivory is the most beautiful color for a dress.  I can't imagine when I have to pick out my wedding dress..its going to take months.&lt;br /&gt;92.  I love Girl Scout cookies!&lt;br /&gt;93.  There is some kind of freedom I always feel while being in the air on a plane.&lt;br /&gt;94.  I don't like the way my voice sounds recorded or on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;95.  I really like my first name.  I think it fits me well and I might use it as a middle name if I have a daughter someday.&lt;br /&gt;96.  My pinky/ring finger nails are stronger than the rest and always long while the other ones barely have any white.&lt;br /&gt;97.  Every day I find something in nature to appreciate.  We live in a beautiful world.&lt;br /&gt;98. I don't like to text unless I'm super bored...I'd much rather talk on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;99.  I have a huge obsession with Dunkin Donuts and cant wait to try the new waffle bacon egg and cheese sandwhich!!&lt;br /&gt;100.  One of my favorite quotes comes from a Styx song, "Just remember that it's a grand illusion and deep inside we're all the same." called The Grand Illusion.  Its a classic but check it out if you don't know it!&lt;br /&gt;101.  I'm really proud of the fact that it only took me two tries to complete this because I get bored very easily!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4887910486721115802?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4887910486721115802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4887910486721115802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4887910486721115802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4887910486721115802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/02/101-things-about-me.html' title='101 Things About Me'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-8626187746494076266</id><published>2009-01-29T23:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T23:17:53.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>42 c</title><content type='html'>I know some people are really disappointed in me.  I feel really ashamed.  But at the same time, I've seen how many changes I've made in just the past two days and I'm really proud of myself.  This is going to help me with self-improvement and to grow out of some old hobbies that had become more like habits.  Crazy, crazy, thought.  But maybe, I needed this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-8626187746494076266?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/8626187746494076266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=8626187746494076266' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8626187746494076266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8626187746494076266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2009/01/42-c.html' title='42 c'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-7909663214339412444</id><published>2008-12-03T03:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T04:02:37.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Week</title><content type='html'>"You're the only one &lt;br /&gt;Who really knew me at all &lt;br /&gt;So take a look at me now &lt;br /&gt;'Cause there's just an empty space"&lt;br /&gt;from Mariah Carey's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Against All Odds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight this song came on Pandora and I hadn't heard it in a really long time.  I remember listening to this song years ago and singing it without even thinking about what the lyrics could mean.  The singer can't face that their ex is never going to come back to them.  That's not at all what has made me listen to this song on repeat all night...just the four lines I quoted up there.  I couldn't think of how to put into words how I've been feeling about this situation I've been dealing with since the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving.  These words tell why I haven't slept at all.  The first few nights I was still shocked that I was able to sleep some during the night.  I have been awake since I woke up eleven in the morning on Sunday.  It's now 3:46am on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're the only one who really knew me at all."  He has been steadily in my life since the ninth grade.  I got close to only a few girls in high school.  What used to be my big group of best friends in middle school had been minimized to only two or three friends at a time.  I couldn't manage a social life and a boyfriend and I didn't want to because I was experiencing "love" for the first time and wanted nothing more than to engage it and make it stronger.  He was the person who I thought knew me the best because he had been my friend and my boyfriend.  He had seen every side of me.  Whenever he did anything that made me mad at him, he reminded me we needed it each other because we knew each other better than we knew ourselves.  I believed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So take a look at me now 'cause there's just an empty space."  He told me on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving that he never loved me or truly cared about me but kept me around because I was the most vulnerable.  Those words are what put me into shock for the first few days.  Now, all I feel is empty.  For all of those years I thought he knew me better than I knew myself  and maybe he did, but I had no idea who he was.  Someone who I thought was a big part of me suddenly became a complete stranger and made me feel violated and hollow.  It made me realize that he never let me find out who I AM not who WE are.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer's battery has two minutes left on it or I would probably write more.  Oh well, maybe I can sleep now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to find me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-7909663214339412444?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/7909663214339412444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=7909663214339412444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7909663214339412444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7909663214339412444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-week.html' title='What A Week'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-2172104975916553563</id><published>2008-12-01T05:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T06:25:13.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the end of an all-nighter</title><content type='html'>i'm pretty tired right now seeing as its 6am and i haven't slept yet.  kristina and i stayed up doing homework all night and there is no point in sleeping now.  i couldn't even if i tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not up for explaining everything that happened over the past week because it is too complicated with too much of a history behind it.   i don't think i'll ever be able to write down everything.  its just too much and i can't even believe i can remember so many things about our relationship because so much happened over six years.  maybe i'll go more into detail later, but right now i don't want to think of any of that.  thats how i spent my entire thanksgiving break.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;recently i've been trying to get in touch with people i've lost touch with.  earlier tonight a friend of mine, who i haven't seen in a year or so, drove from jersey to come see me.  it was really good to see him and to see a new face around here.  i also e-mailed a few people who i've been meaning to check on.  i hate losing contact with people and letting relationships fade away.  on saturday night we had some people over at our apartment and my friends from home- gill, meghan, kailyn and becca- came.  i hadnt seen most of them in a really long time and it was really good to see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have this week of classes and then finals start next week.  i'm anxious to find out my grades for the semester and hoping that they are good enough to keep me here.  i believe they will be.  i can honestly say that this semester i worked my ass off.  i'm just hoping that my grades are good enough to bring my gpa up since im on academic probation.  if they aren't, how mad can i be at myself?  i tried my best during a very hard 4 months for my family and i just have to hope for the best from here on out.  i'm trying to be optimistic now by believing that i'll still be here in the spring and not even considering any other options.  if by chance i find out i can't come back, i'll deal with it then.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thankfully i don't have to work until wednesday so i can catch up on my sleep.  its really common for me to spend my "free time" sleeping or taking a nap because its been hard to get papers/work done early when i work weeknights.  work is going well, though.  i'm probably going to live at my apartment up here for most of winter break because i can pick up a lot of hours  and save up for next semester.  i really would like to/need to do that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alright, not much else to update on right now.  i've been looking at a computer screen all night and thats getting old..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-2172104975916553563?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/2172104975916553563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=2172104975916553563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2172104975916553563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2172104975916553563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/12/end-of-all-nighter.html' title='the end of an all-nighter'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4586112321210148563</id><published>2008-11-18T04:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T05:48:23.892-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Post Finally</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since I've made a post.  I've been busy but also not really in the mood to write.  A lot has been going on and I haven't been up to writing about it but I'm sort of in the mood to write tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier tonight, well, technically last night since its 5am, I found out something that's really disturbing me.  I'm trying my hardest not to think about it because I have a lot to do and don't need anything bringing me down but every song that's been coming on pandora (my favorite web-site: pandora.com, awesome radio) has reminded me of it.  And I feel like I need to just talk about it.  I never do...I hate talking about what's on my mind when I have stuff to do but I can't get it done until it is off of my mind.  I just don't know how someone who used to love you can be so thoughtless and hurtful now even if it is over.  I'm coming to the final end of a very drawn out dysfunctional relationship.  Its been drawn out for so long over many different lies which I think is why it has worn down to nothing.  But that doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt.  It's been hard for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was beginning my paper tonight and looked at the date on my computer.  It was after midnight so it said November 18th.  My heart dropped as I realized tomorrow is November 19th.  That day will forever be etched into my mind since its the day that we lost Liam.  When it had been one year, I was left alone after being ditched by the person I was just talking about in the last paragraph.  When it had been two years, I was lucky enough to have good friends in my dorm and they spent the day with me and even decorated my dorm room with uplifting quotes and pictures.  This year, I have no clue what I am going to do.  I am thankful that I didn't realize until now that it was coming up because now I don't have anxiety building up to it.  I would like to celebrate Liam's life tomorrow night somehow.  I think of him so much and even included him in a speech on what has affected me in becoming a social worker last week.  Maybe I'll make a post on that sometime because I could've done my whole speech on how Liam has influenced the major I choose and my life.  I miss him so much.  My memory is horrible and I'm realizing I'm already losing some memories I used to have of him.  They are just more fuzzy and I hate it.  I need to start writing all of my memories with him down so I don't forget anything else.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to write this paper since midnight.  It's been five hours.  I have been on the computer almost the entire time and I can't get anything done.  My paper is not hard to write because its for my social work class and those papers are usually easy for me.  And its not that I'm sad because I of who I was talking about earlier or because tomorrow is Nov. 19th, I'm really not feeling that down or upset.  I'm just thinking about how fast time goes and how quickly life changes.  Looking back on my junior year of high school which was really only two and half years ago, my life has changed dramatically.  Some changes have been for the better and some for the worst, but this is just where my life has brought me.  Kristina and I were talking about how what we've been though in just the past few years and how much life has changed.  I think I'm realizing that I'm in the real world now, too.  This song came on my station on pandora and I've been listening to it on repeat a lot tonight.  It's by my favorite female R&amp;B artist, Mariah Carey.  Music has always been a part of me and I attribute a lot of memories to songs that I listened then.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a clip of lyrics to that Mariah Carey song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you get caught in the rain &lt;br /&gt;With nowhere to run&lt;br /&gt;When you’re distraught&lt;br /&gt;And in pain without anyone&lt;br /&gt;When we keep crying out&lt;br /&gt;To be safe&lt;br /&gt;But nobody comes&lt;br /&gt;And you feel so far away&lt;br /&gt;That you just can't find your way home&lt;br /&gt;you can get there alone &lt;br /&gt;it's okay&lt;br /&gt;once you say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I can make it through the rain&lt;br /&gt;I can stand up once again&lt;br /&gt;On my own and I know&lt;br /&gt;That I’m strong enough to mend&lt;br /&gt;And every time I feel afraid&lt;br /&gt;I hold tighter to my faith&lt;br /&gt;And I live one more day&lt;br /&gt;And I make it through the rain'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you keep falling down&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you dare give in&lt;br /&gt;You will arise safe and sound&lt;br /&gt;So keep pressing on steadfastly&lt;br /&gt;And you’ll find what you need to prevail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when the wind blows&lt;br /&gt;And shadows grow close&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid&lt;br /&gt;There’s &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;nothing you can’t face&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her voice is so strong and I feel like the lyrics empower me.  Right now its 5:30 am and I have class from 11am-2 tomorrow then work after that.  It doesn't look like I'll be sleeping because I have to write this paper now but I don't really mind.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll be able to update again soon because a lot of good things are happening in my life too! My mom is doing so well and I am so happy!  I saw her last night, I brought Erin, Kristina and Melissa down for dinner with her.  She was lonely because Kristen was visiting friends this week so i was glad we got to visit her! She made chicken parm and it was great!  She also looks so awesome, and I'm so happy.  She is also very happy in the new house and I love it there too.  I couldn't be happier with the new place!  Also, I've been working at the sala.dworks in town and its been working out really well.  My schedule never conflicts with class and they are pretty flexible with taking off.  I also like the people I work with which is nice.  Okay, I need to stop updating and write this paper before I'm not in the mood to write anymore.   :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4586112321210148563?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4586112321210148563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4586112321210148563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4586112321210148563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4586112321210148563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-post-finally.html' title='New Post Finally'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-3708922874674255044</id><published>2008-10-07T02:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T02:22:29.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>JOHN MCCAIN RECORD . COM</title><content type='html'>www.johnmccainrecord.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another good web-site. -spread it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-3708922874674255044?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/3708922874674255044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=3708922874674255044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3708922874674255044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3708922874674255044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/10/john-mccain-record-com.html' title='JOHN MCCAIN RECORD . COM'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4907845304223778980</id><published>2008-10-06T13:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T13:54:55.165-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Really Scary</title><content type='html'>www.keatingeconomics.com &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the video on the website above.  If you haven't heard of the keating five yet, you will by tomorrow because the Obama campaign just released it.  Pass it on to as many people as you can.  It's important for all voters to see what kind of international economic crisis McCain would be putting our world in.  He admits that he is "not good" with economics but really, I think he just tries to avoid the economy all together because he knows if he gets someone else to deal with it/speak about it, maybe his corrupt past won't come up.  (Too late.)  And you can get away with a hell of a lot more if you have someone else speaking for you who doesn't have ties to one of the biggest scandals in our country's history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really glad the Obama campaign is releasing this now.  Everyone thinks McCain is the good guy and Palin is just his evil running mate but now the truths are coming out about McCain and I'm realizing that we CANNOT have him running our country.  Its not only Sarah Palin that worries me now, its McCain himself.  I'm praying that America will see how much McCain will cause our economy to collapse (more than it already is) because I might have to leave the country if he becomes president.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4907845304223778980?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4907845304223778980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4907845304223778980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4907845304223778980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4907845304223778980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/10/really-scary.html' title='Really Scary'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-6898858902203938934</id><published>2008-09-08T23:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:05:35.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>Every day I'm reminded that America is not nice.  You stop a little faster to let someone turn in front of you because there's a huge line of cars behind you, and two cars honk unnecessarily and speed off on the side of your car.  And when you hold the door for four people who are all in a hurry, and not one says thank you, its a little discouraging to be so nice.  When all you want to do is just go on a ride in the valley and relax, but you're being followed by a beat-up truck on your ass with some redneck pissed off you're doing the speed limit, its hard to relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just rambling.  Its been a long day.  I got screwed over a lot and it's hard not to feel like the world's out to get me.  But, still, I did three hours of work tonight and I feel good about it.  I really want/need to do well this semester.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-6898858902203938934?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/6898858902203938934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=6898858902203938934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6898858902203938934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6898858902203938934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/09/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-7009297895493961305</id><published>2008-08-29T13:47:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T19:42:07.233-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Hate Politics.</title><content type='html'>McCain picked his running mate today.  She's been a governor in Alaska for two years.  She describes herself as "the average hockey mom".  I read this in the New York Times article about McCain's choice for vice president:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, making an explicit appeal to Ms. Clinton’s disappointed supporters, she said, “It turns out that the women in America aren’t finished yet, and we can shatter that glass ceiling.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck.  This is why I hate politics.  Its so corrupt.  McCain knows damn well that he only picked her because shes a woman and she will appeal to all of Clinton's old supporters who REFUSE to support Obama because they are so die-hard about Hillary.  I'm so angry because its threatening to Obama's lead and so extremely obvious that he only picked her because of her gender.  If this weren't such a diverse race, McCain would've gone with anyone but a woman.  I hope that Clinton's fans are offended by this and do not give in to McCain's plan of wooing them with his beautiful, "average", middle-aged vice president.  I just looked up some info on her and even if she were fairly picked, I wouldn't think she's ready.  She has no international experience and hasn't been involved in higher politics for very long.  This is a joke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-7009297895493961305?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/7009297895493961305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=7009297895493961305' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7009297895493961305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7009297895493961305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/08/fucking-rebublicans.html' title='Why I Hate Politics.'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1308415480249782917</id><published>2008-08-04T16:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T17:06:18.925-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Ask Why</title><content type='html'>Ask What.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I came home from PACAA and was given some of the worst news I could imagine receiving.  I don't want to go into specifics because I'm not too sure who reads this and not many people have been told yet.  But I was devastated.  I cried my heart out on the phone with Gill and then Sean called right after I hung up and came over without asking or me telling him to.  We sat on the benches that are by the pool and he held me while I cried in disbelief.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first things I said to him was, "I just don't understand why this is happening.  She doesn't deserve this, our family has done so much to try and make things better and I just don't know why this would happen when everything was finally starting to get better."  Sean answered that with, "You can't ask 'Why?' but 'What?'  By asking 'What?' the situation becomes all that much less frustrating and you can start looking in a better direction."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I started looking at what I can do.  Its helped, too.  Even though I don't know exactly what we're going to do, I feel better than I looked into it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm going to Chestertown with my Mom.  Kristen is already down there.  I guess I'm going to end this here.  I don't really know what else I can say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1308415480249782917?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1308415480249782917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1308415480249782917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1308415480249782917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1308415480249782917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/08/dont-ask-why.html' title='Don&apos;t Ask Why'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5362373630589753866</id><published>2008-07-23T15:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T15:08:10.078-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Look At All The Lonely People</title><content type='html'>When I was younger, my favorite song was Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles.  I remember listening to it on a tape (ha!) on repeat.  I had no clue what it was about or how depressing it is.  I think its kind of funny to look back on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5362373630589753866?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5362373630589753866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5362373630589753866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5362373630589753866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5362373630589753866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/07/look-at-all-lonely-people.html' title='Look At All The Lonely People'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4038797622336317897</id><published>2008-07-19T03:13:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T03:42:47.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'>With My Arms Out To My Side</title><content type='html'>Life can be pretty...unexpected? shocking?  I'm sort of at a loss for words right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past three weeks have been the best weeks that I've had in the past ten months, at least.  I don't know if it always shows on the outside, but I constantly feel happy and excited to be alive.  It can mostly be attributed to Sean, who I haven't talked about much on here.  I don't think I've ever met another person who has a perspective on life that is so similar to mine and for similar reasons.  It didn't take long for me to pick up on that part of him because he communicates so well, another really important thing to me.  I could go on but it just comes down to the fact that he makes me so happy.  He motivates me to want to go back to West Chester this fall and work my ass off.  No one, not even myself, could do that before.  Its pretty amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to say this because bad things are always harder for me to put into words.  We received some bad news that has me really worried.  I was told last night and still haven't soaked in the shock.  My head is so confused.  I'm used to being so content and worry-free now, so its strange to feel such sadness.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to look at this as a blessing.  If I were in the state I was still in when I left school this past Spring, or even in the beginning of June when I still didn't feel back to myself, I don't think I would be able to look at the bad news with much light.  I like to think that if there is such thing as fate, a guardian angel or a higher power, that it was planned to send me these extreme emotions on separate ends of the spectrum because they will &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;balance&lt;/span&gt; each other out.  Because if nothing bad ever happened, the good things would lose their worth.  There cannot be right without wrong, good without bad.  Balance is everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4038797622336317897?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4038797622336317897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4038797622336317897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4038797622336317897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4038797622336317897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/07/with-my-arms-out-to-my-side.html' title='With My Arms Out To My Side'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1386874680473957583</id><published>2008-07-11T12:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T13:04:38.324-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BRETT DENNEN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SHeRIM2LkAI/AAAAAAAAADo/bZQxgdqL28Y/s1600-h/stoned.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SHeRIM2LkAI/AAAAAAAAADo/bZQxgdqL28Y/s400/stoned.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221801863032836098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE SUMMER! Last night me, Gill, Kristen, Sean and Matt saw the Brett Dennen/John Mayer/Colbie Caillat concert!  We really only wanted to see Brett Dennen but John Mayer turned out to be pretty amazing.  Last time I saw him I wasn't as impressed but he covered so many amazing songs and jammed out a lot more.  It was awesome!  So many hilarious things happened... Kristen bought two beers and brought them back and handed me one.  Right as I was sipping it, two security guards came over and said, "We're gonna need to see some ID".  Being wasted, I turned to Kristen and said, "Kristen hand me your wallet."  So she opened it up and showed me where her driver's license was.  I took it out, handed it to the guy and he stared at it for a few seconds, handed it to his partner who nodded his head and said, "You're good. Enjoy."  Then we all started rolling on the grass laughing as I chugged half of my "legal" beer. hahaha  The concert was amazing!  I had such a good time with people I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture at the top is obviously from Post Secret.  I liked it a lot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1386874680473957583?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1386874680473957583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1386874680473957583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1386874680473957583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1386874680473957583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/07/brett-dennen.html' title='BRETT DENNEN!'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SHeRIM2LkAI/AAAAAAAAADo/bZQxgdqL28Y/s72-c/stoned.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-7992173524198152129</id><published>2008-07-04T18:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T18:37:41.317-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July!</title><content type='html'>The past three days have been three of the best days of my year....maybe even longer than that.  I haven't been this genuinely happy in so long!  IT FEELS GREAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's fourth of july! i love this holiday! There are bbqs, beer, fireworks....it doesn't get much better than that! I'm going up to west chester tonight w/ my friends then around one were prob gonna bbq at sean's.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more serious note, today I'm thinking about all of the people who live in countries without the freedom we have in the States.  Although there is still much change to be made in our country, we have progressed so much further than more than 3/4s of the world and we should be very thankful and proud of that.  I am proud to be an American even if I strongly dislike our current president!  But, change is in the near future.  Yes, we can!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-7992173524198152129?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/7992173524198152129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=7992173524198152129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7992173524198152129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7992173524198152129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/07/4th-of-july.html' title='4th of July!'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-2524282998580299046</id><published>2008-06-30T10:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T10:10:25.342-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SGjpL12b11I/AAAAAAAAADg/jY42qmGLaC4/s1600-h/becarefulyourimportant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SGjpL12b11I/AAAAAAAAADg/jY42qmGLaC4/s400/becarefulyourimportant.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217676557951948626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-2524282998580299046?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/2524282998580299046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=2524282998580299046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2524282998580299046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2524282998580299046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/06/ps.html' title='PS'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SGjpL12b11I/AAAAAAAAADg/jY42qmGLaC4/s72-c/becarefulyourimportant.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4551977029607045642</id><published>2008-06-22T01:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T01:54:21.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Positive (B+) AM</title><content type='html'>"Life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful." -Annette Funicello&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been exactly two years since Christine got into her car accident.  It was a rough night on Friday and I cried like I hadn't in months.  I miss her so, so much.  I really want to laugh with her and be around her.  Its really getting hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liam's 8th birthday would be a week from now.  Its just all around a very hard time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful.  Life doesn't even have to be good to be wonderful.  Because life IS wonderful.  Its much easier to be happy if I remember that.  If I die at a young age, I wouldn't want anyone to hold back in life because they were grieving over me.   I would want to shout to everyone, "LIVE! You are so lucky to have this chance."  So, thats what I'm trying my hardest to do.  I'm taking in all of the wonderful things life has to offer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I Love About Life Right Now:&lt;br /&gt;1.) I have a car!  Its a Toyota Echo and it reminds me of a spaceship on the inside!  I love it to death even though its a little beat up.  I'm just so thankful to have a car again.  (Its been 11 months!)&lt;br /&gt;2.) Valley rides / Valley Gardens&lt;br /&gt;3.) My best friends&lt;br /&gt;4.) Beautiful weather&lt;br /&gt;5.) A really great new friend.&lt;br /&gt;6.) Feeling healthier each day&lt;br /&gt;7.) Not having classes&lt;br /&gt;8.) A higher level of believing in myself.  I know I really can do anything I put my mind to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4551977029607045642?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4551977029607045642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4551977029607045642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4551977029607045642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4551977029607045642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/06/be-positive-b-am.html' title='Be Positive (B+) AM'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5685805229526655646</id><published>2008-06-19T14:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T15:03:44.907-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Recap</title><content type='html'>Last weekend was great. We got a lot done at staff training and I'm really happy with how our group works together.  :)  I think we have a lot to offer P.ACAA 42 and I'm excited for us to (hopefully) show it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SFqrMs3NCpI/AAAAAAAAADY/J2OL3MKe1ts/s1600-h/n60715495_32790713_3474.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SFqrMs3NCpI/AAAAAAAAADY/J2OL3MKe1ts/s320/n60715495_32790713_3474.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213667753324251794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weeks been kind of....boring.  I don't like boring days because those are the ones when I have no motivation to do anything productive and just sit around thinking.  Right now is not the time to be doing that.  It's one of the hardest times of the year for me because in just a few more days it will be the day Christine had her car accident, TWO years ago.  Two years..  Its so hard for me to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday I was at S.aladworks about to go on my break and I realized that I'm working back at the same place I worked when Christine got in her accident.  I was working at S.aladworks when I found out about the whole incident.  Its hard to be there right now because it makes it so much easier to remember that day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to stay positive. Thinking positive has gotten me through so much that I don't see why I should stop.  Maybe its good that I'm back at S.aladworks because maybe if I work myself through remembering that day more, I can eventually come to terms with it and start accepting my past a little better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristen and Em are on their way here!  I'm excited because we need a little more life around here.  They're bringing Sydney AND Symon (cat).  Should be interesting.. haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5685805229526655646?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5685805229526655646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5685805229526655646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5685805229526655646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5685805229526655646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/06/quick-recap.html' title='Quick Recap'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/SFqrMs3NCpI/AAAAAAAAADY/J2OL3MKe1ts/s72-c/n60715495_32790713_3474.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-598347024345443739</id><published>2008-06-09T10:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T10:52:08.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am so blessed.</title><content type='html'>Its definitely time that I have a real update because my life right now definitely deserves it.  Things are GREAT!&lt;br /&gt;While Kristen and Em were home I took them to Valley Gardens because neither of them had been there and I knew they would enjoy it.  So we went and Kris got some really good pics with her name camera.  Then last Wednesday me, Kristen, Em, my mom and Dan Glavin went to Dave Matthews!! It was awesome!  We "tailgated" in Kristen's new car, taught my mom how to play Kings and danced in ponchos.  What could be better than that?  Really though, the concert was so much fun and I'm so glad I got to go with people I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drum Roll Please.....&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was THE best day of my life so far.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gill, Matty and I went canoeing down the Brandywine!  Gill and I have been planning this trip and I must say, we did a great job of planning it.   We had everything we needed on the canoe with us.  It was SUCH a beautiful day yesterday.  It was the hottest day we've had yet this summer (until today) but on the river it was perfect.  We just sat back on the canoe, drank cold beers and took in the amazing scenery the Brandywine River has to offer.  Even though the river water may be polluted from all the Delaware *cough*DuPont*cough* chemicals, it was still the most beautiful sight.  The sides of the river and lined with tall trees and beautiful flowers.  We even saw a bull on the side of the river!!  I just don't know any other words to describe this trip but amazing.  I really felt as if I were living my life to the absolute fullest and that's definitely a great feeling in its self.  It took us about five and a half hours to get to Smith Bridge but thats pretty good timing considering how little we paddled.  There were parts of the river that were deep enough that we couldn't stand and we would all just swim on the side of our boat because the water felt so great!  &lt;br /&gt;Once we finally got to the end mark, our canoe rental place picked us up and took us back to our car.  We then drove straight to Valley Gardens in our soaked clothes and with our river washed hair looking like valley junkies haha!  We sat at our favorite spot and did more of our favorite thing.  Then we went to Charcoal Pit, got take out milkshakes and drove to Gill's grandparent's house for a BBQ!  It was me, Gill, Matty, Gill's mom, my Mom, Nan and Pop.  I couldn't have asked for a better meal after the long day.  &lt;br /&gt;I think if I were asked to describe what a perfect day would be for me, this would be EXACTLY it.  I feel so lucky and blessed to have such a beautiful river near me, friends and family who I love to death and great memories like this one.  I couldn't ask for more. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-598347024345443739?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/598347024345443739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=598347024345443739' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/598347024345443739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/598347024345443739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-am-so-blessed.html' title='I am so blessed.'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-2311686824051044142</id><published>2008-06-05T20:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T20:49:21.859-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Quote</title><content type='html'>"Don't wonder why people go crazy..wonder why they don't.  In the face of all we can lose in a day, in an instant, wonder what the hell it is that makes us hold it together." -Greys Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this quote a lot.  Sometimes its hard to believe that we can adapt to change and loss as well as we do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-2311686824051044142?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/2311686824051044142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=2311686824051044142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2311686824051044142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2311686824051044142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-quote.html' title='Just A Quote'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-2453997876825871843</id><published>2008-05-26T12:17:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T12:45:37.998-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Superman Visits In My Dreams</title><content type='html'>I just woke up because I went to bed around 5.  I feel like I need to write this down before I forget it completely.  This morning while I was sleeping, I had a dream about Liam.  It wasn't the ordinary type of dream about Liam thats usually extremely emotional or really sad.  In this dream we were on a huge boat, basically a cruise ship.  It was a celebration of something but I don't know if I ever figured out what we were celebrating.  The one thing that was not out of the ordinary in my dream was that I knew that Liam was going to die.  It wasn't that I knew he had cancer and suspected it, but I was aware of what happened in November of 2005.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There wasn't much content to the dream.  Nothing really happened.  I just kept seeing Liam on this crowded ship and running up to him to give him a hug.  I can still feel his tiny hands lightly pressing my back.  He was laughing and smiling throughout my whole dream.  I remember walking a lot with him on the ship, staring at him to take in every little detail and kissing the top of his bald, shiny head.  I must've somehow knew that I was dreaming and that I would wake up soon because I asked Liam for one last big hug as if I were leaving the ship.  I bent down on one knee and he basically ran into my arms, this time putting all of his weight onto my chest.  I remember feeling that, thinking of how him running into my chest kind of hurt a little, but it was the best  feeling in the world because it was Liam.  I can still feel it.  Then after our long hug, he said, "That was the best hug I've ever had!"  And then I woke up from my alarm, stretched, and walked out on the balcony because it is a beautiful day.  I sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure out why I felt so weird.  And then I remembered the dream as if it had happened the night before.  It was so vivid and clear still in my mind.  I don't know how to say this but anyone whose ever lost someone they loved knows the feeling without me having to describe it.  And if you haven't ever lost anyone you love, its not worth me trying to explain this feeling because there aren't words for this emotion.  Its missing someone so much that you wonder sometimes how you still function.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you Liam.  Thanks for visiting in my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-2453997876825871843?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/2453997876825871843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=2453997876825871843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2453997876825871843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2453997876825871843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/05/superman-visits-in-my-dreams.html' title='Superman Visits In My Dreams'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-8971189333708782567</id><published>2008-05-21T00:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T00:21:27.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seventeen and Stupid</title><content type='html'>Last night my best friend from high school (and still one of my best friends) asked me if I ever think about what happened last July.  I never talk about it and only four people know it ever happened.  Those four people have never brought it up and to be honest, after it happened, I never once brought it up either.  But to answer her question, I do think about a lot still.  I think about how different my life would be if that had never happened that day, how many people would look at me differently, and how such a hard thing to go through, turned out to be such a blessing in the long run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-8971189333708782567?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/8971189333708782567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=8971189333708782567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8971189333708782567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8971189333708782567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/05/seventeen-and-stupid.html' title='Seventeen and Stupid'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5992236706768366164</id><published>2008-05-03T03:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T04:21:16.469-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Betrayal</title><content type='html'>Tonight I had some of the rudest things said to me ever.  I have never felt so unappreciated and betrayed.  I was stunned by what the person was saying that I couldn't even speak.  I was just so baffled at their stupidity and immaturity that I couldn't even come up with words to say.  So I didn't speak.  And then he called me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"A rich white girl from Delaware who hasn't been through shit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I LOST IT.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never felt so angry, hurt, upset or ready to speak my mind.  I am NOT AT ALL rich.  I have a Mom who works 18 hours days weekly to put her two daughters into college.  Oh, and I definitely would not classify myself who hasn't been through shit.  Because I'm white, I live a perfect life free of any stress. NO, that's ridiculous.  I just wished I could've shown him those days of my past that still haunt me every day.  I wish he could've walked in my Mom's shoes for a day and seen how much she struggles to support herself, my sister and I.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never had a friend do this to me before.  I've had friends who did things that made me mad or lost friends over stupid things but I've never, ever had someone been so backstabbing and insane.  So hurtful and careless about what they were saying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5992236706768366164?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5992236706768366164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5992236706768366164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5992236706768366164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5992236706768366164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/05/betrayal.html' title='Betrayal'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-7473587203262543059</id><published>2008-04-26T23:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T23:31:22.444-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Relay For Life</title><content type='html'>Today was Relay For Life at West Chester.  I didn't raise money, or really do much for our team.   I was dreading even going to it because I didn't want any reminders.   When we got there I made Sammy promise me she wouldn't let me cry and be corny during the luminaria ceremony.  Well duh, I cried.  And then afterwards, I felt really good.  I should've let myself think about Liam all throughout the time I was there, raised money in his name and done more for the team in memory of Liam.  Now, I realize that I was a coward for dreading Relay For Life.  I should've made the best of it for Liam.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, life goes on and now I know for the future that I shouldn't desensitize myself towards anything that makes me think of Liam or Christine but just deal with it, go through it and come out stronger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-7473587203262543059?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/7473587203262543059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=7473587203262543059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7473587203262543059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7473587203262543059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/relay-for-life.html' title='Relay For Life'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1936071642694723459</id><published>2008-04-23T15:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T23:24:25.101-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here it goes.</title><content type='html'>I woke up one morning in June and got ready for work with Meg.  She had spent the night because we both had to open Saladworks.  It was a beautiful day but for some reason, I didn't feel right.  After we opened, Keyshia (a girl who only worked there a few weeks but became a good friend of mine at work) asked me what was going on.   I was working the register and usually I am really happy with the customers but for some reason that morning, I had a knot in my stomach and couldn't even muster a smile.  Somedays were still hard for me dealing with Liam's death because it had only been 6 months but I knew it didn't have to do with that.  I was just feeling really anxious and down.  &lt;br /&gt;Around eleven, my boss told me to take a break and get something to eat because Keyshia told her I was struggling with getting through the day, and I was working open to close (twelve hours).  I went to the closet to get out my purse and took my phone out to call my Mom to talk to her about how weird I had been feeling all day.  At the same time, Keyshia was ringing me up for a blush pasta.  When I lit up my phone, I saw 23 missed calls and six voicemails.  My heart dropped.  I immediately ran out of the store and began crying.  I knew something terrible had happened.  I knew it before I had even checked my phone.&lt;br /&gt;First I checked my voicemail because I wasn't sure who to call back.  More than ten different people had called me.  The first one was Brittany.  At first all I heard were here sobs and then I heard the words that I will never forget.&lt;br /&gt;"Kels, you gotta call me.  I don't want to be the one to tell you this but you need to know right now.  Kels, call me back.  It's Christine."  then she started crying and hung up the phone.  &lt;br /&gt;My knees fell weak and I collapsed outside of Saladworks.  Keyshia had followed me outside and tried making out what I was saying through my tears.  She and Meghan walked me to the back of Saladworks while I called Brittany back.  She was still crying although the voicemail she left was from an hour before.  She answered without saying anything and I yelled out of fear, "What happened Brit, what happened to Christine?!"  She kept crying and said, "She got in a car accident this morning.  She's not doing good, Kels.  They had to fly her in a helicopter to UPenn.  Everyones at the hospital but they aren't letting anyone see her.  She's getting brain surgery, Kels."&lt;br /&gt;I dropped my phone and can't really remember what happened around that time.  I know Meghan was holding me and crying with me and that my old mean boss Cal brought me water and tissues.  They asked who they should call to come pick me up because I was in no condition to drive but then I saw Brittany running from the parking lot.  I could barely walk.  My mind was flooded with horrible sights and intense fear.  At one point, I thought I was dreaming.  I thought, this is all a dream.  This would never happen to Christine.  Once I got in Brittany's car and we looked at each other, both not knowing what to say, I completely fell apart.  That's when I knew it was real.  Such raw emotion and all of this fear could not be a dream.  I was living a nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;I called Rusty because he had left me three voicemails.  He was already at the hospital with Nick and Jon and they were just sitting in the waiting room.  Rusty assured me that everything would be okay.  He kept telling me that everything will be fine, just to stay calm and positive.  She would make it.&lt;br /&gt;Brittany took me back to my house and Kristen's friend Meredith was waiting there to give me a ride to the hospital.  Kristen was in North Carolina when I called her with the news so she called a friend to drive me to UPenn.  Then I got another call.  This time it was Nick.  He told me they were making all visitors leave now so there was no point in me driving up now.  Her brain was swelling and she needed a second skull surgery to release some of the pressure.  &lt;br /&gt;The rest is pretty foggy still.  I know I sat at my house with some of my closest friends and just cried.  Rachel Dolgin drove down that night and we all just sat around, waiting.  I didn't know it yet, but waiting would be what I would be doing for the next twenty-three days.  Waiting for news, answers, improvement and most especially, waiting to see Christine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I visited her two days after the accident and did not recognize my best friend at all.  Her face was extremely swollen, so much that her cheeks came up to her nose.  Christine's hair was all shaved off and there were lines of staples in her head from her brain surgeries.  Although it looked nothing like her, while I stayed next to her hospital bed I could feel her there too.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christine was in a coma for twenty-three days after the accident.  At first, it was medically induced because she would've been in too much pain after her brain surgery.  The Saturday after her accident (on a Tuesday), she had a stroke.  Her stroke reduced her brain activity, but the doctors were still hopeful that she would come out of the coma with minor brain damage.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week passed, things stayed stable.  I had been visiting periodically, whenever her parents and the doctors said we could come.  Saladworks gave me two weeks off right off the bat and were very understanding so I spent as much time as possible at the hospital.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time I went with Lara.  I think Dan may have come with us or met us there but a lot of those twenty-three days are beginning to get fuzzy.  The important thing is, every single minute I spent with Christine in that hospital room, I will never forget.  I sat next to her bed and held her hand.  A young nurse came in and introduced herself.  She was just changing some of Christine's tubes and checking her stats.  I kept rubbing Christine's hands, noticing the dried bloods underneath of her finger nails.  It literally was one of the hardest moments of my life right then.  The nurse started talking to Christine while changing her tubes.  She was telling her what she was doing.  I looked at the nurse confused and asked, can she hear you?  She smiled at me and said, "Yes, honey, she can hear you.  I assure you."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I started talking to Christine.  I told her what we had all been doing in the past few weeks, how strong she is and how proud I was of her for putting up such a fight.  Her hand flinched a little and I jumped.  I told the nurse she had moved.  The nurse looked at her blood pressure and said, I know she can hear you.  Her blood pressure is going down because hearing your voice relaxes her.  That's how you know if someone in a coma can hear you.  So then I started telling Christine things I would want to know.  I told her what day it was, the time, the colors of her hospital room, how Skippy her cat has been looking for her these past few weeks.  As I kept talking, her blood pressure continued lowering and I knew she could hear me.  Lara came in the room and started talking to her too.  After the nurse left, we sang James Taylor's You've Got A Friend while holding each of her hands.  Christine loved James Taylor.  I couldn't get through the song without tears flowing from my eyes.  I didn't want Christine to know I was crying so I let go of her hand and walked to the corner of the room.  The nurse came back in and saw me in the corner crying.  She promised me that everything was going to be okay and Christine was getting better.  I looked her in the eyes and saw hers were swelled up with tears as well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week later, we got the news that Christine had developed pnemonia.  This worried the doctors a lot and the started using terms such as "quality of life" and "life support".  I couldn't believe what a horrible turn everything had taken.  But still, we remained positive.  In my heart, I knew Christine would be okay.  A few days later, the pnemonia turned into a blood infection which attacked her organs one by one.  Christine was having less brain activity and being less responsive to voices and being touched.  Still, my hope remained strong and I never gave up on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday of July 14th, 2006, I went to the mall with Gill and Meghan.  We were in Claires standing in line to buy sunglasses and my phone rang.  It was Kristen.  When I first wrote this post I thought it was Nick but Kristen assured me she was the one who had called me.  I try not to think about this day much, which is probably why my memory is distorted.  I answered and she told me Christine had been taken off of life support a few minutes ago.  I told Gill the news, hung up with Kristen, paid for my sunglasses and walked out of Concord Mall without a tear in my eye.  I looked at everyone who I passed while walking out of that mall and wished I could've been any one of them.  I couldn't talk, drive, cry or really even move at all once we got to my car.  Gill drove my car Kristen said, but once again, I thought I did.  (My whole memory of this day is so distorted.  I don't even think its because it's been almost two years this summer.  I think its because I'm so scared to think about that day.  It hurts way too much.)  I walked inside and completely collapsed on my couch.  My best friend who had been there for me during the death of Liam 7 months ago, was now gone as well.  I felt so much emotion all at once and never thought I would ever be okay.  All of my hope and belief in her making it out of this had all been washed down the drain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two months it will mark two years since the day she got into her car accident.  I can say I am a changed person, in good and bad ways.  I never thought I would be okay, but I am.  I know that Christine put up the biggest fight she could.  I treasure every moment I ever spent with her and always will.  I'm lucky to have been so close with her and I am thankful for so many things.  But, I can't say that I'm 100% okay.  I miss her more than anything, and I think about it every single day.  I just want to be laughing with her walking down South Street again or to be on Jr.Staff with her right now.  It's really hard losing a best friend.  Teenagers focus their whole lives around their friends (usually more than family) so losing Christine was like losing a part of my life that I will never be able to get back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1936071642694723459?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1936071642694723459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1936071642694723459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1936071642694723459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1936071642694723459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/here-it-goes.html' title='Here it goes.'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1471659193329201208</id><published>2008-04-22T23:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T00:04:05.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspired By Kristen's Post</title><content type='html'>I never really write about Christine anymore.  And if I do, Liam is usually involved.  Kristen's post about Christine inspired me to write about her. &lt;br /&gt;I think I need to write about the day that changed my life.  It would probably help a little. But I don't feel like I'm strong enough to do that right now.  I couldn't tell if I just didn't feel like typing.  I'm definitely just not strong enough to write about it yet.  I still have nightmares about that day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1471659193329201208?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1471659193329201208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1471659193329201208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1471659193329201208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1471659193329201208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/inspired-by-kristens-post.html' title='Inspired By Kristen&apos;s Post'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5441104504490085667</id><published>2008-04-10T19:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T19:03:55.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunny Days</title><content type='html'>It was such a BEAUTIFUL day out today-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on a long drive with Melissa, Kristin and Emily this morning.  It was such a cliche "summer" day outside today.  Everyone was laying on a blanket in the grass, playing frisbee or driving with their windows down and sunglasses on.  All the boys had their shirts off and the girls were all wearing tanks and flip flops.  It was a pretty corny sight but I can't say I didn't enjoy the sunny day.  We went to a park and went on the swings until our hips hurt then I walked into town with Emily and Kristin.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed good weather.  I hope it stays really nice because it makes me really happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5441104504490085667?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5441104504490085667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5441104504490085667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5441104504490085667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5441104504490085667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/sunny-days.html' title='Sunny Days'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-3088152682827593943</id><published>2008-04-08T22:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T23:00:10.034-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An e-mail I got today</title><content type='html'>John McCain is so wrong on Iraq, he can't even get the basic facts about the situation on the ground correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, as he was questioning Gen. David Petraeus, he again confused the difference between Shiite and Sunni Muslims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least five times as a candidate John McCain has stated that Iran (a Shiite nation) is supporting Al-Qaeda (a Sunni group) in Iraq. This is not some minor mistake, but a significant gaffe. He clearly does not understand the sensitive political dynamics in that region of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's worse is that he's done it at important times when you'd expect him to be at his best -- he did it today in the Senate while questioning the commander of American forces in Iraq, and he did it on a recent trip to the Middle East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If John McCain can't remember such a simple fact at crucial times, how will he be able to do it as President?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to stop John McCain from taking control of the White House, and stop him from taking over George Bush's war in Iraq. Can you write a letter to the editor of your local paper letting voters in your area know just how confused John McCain is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.democrats.org/gaffes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once is misspeaking -- five times is a dangerous lack of understanding. John McCain so badly misunderstands Iraq that he's content to stay there for 100 years, something he's said multiple times. He has also failed to explain how he would pay for a war that is now costing you and me $12 billion each month -- money we could be using to help our economy here at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John McCain wants us to believe that his decades of foreign policy experience make him the natural choice to lead our nation at war with terrorists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just can't afford someone who just doesn't understand Iraq -- it's too dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Howard Dean&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-3088152682827593943?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/3088152682827593943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=3088152682827593943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3088152682827593943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3088152682827593943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/e-mail-i-got-today.html' title='An e-mail I got today'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4378609914618302207</id><published>2008-04-07T17:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T17:44:48.781-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To The Dreamers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/FHNhc6TPXts' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/FHNhc6TPXts'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"All accomplishments stem from dreams courageous people convert into reality." _Dr. David J Schwartz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4378609914618302207?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4378609914618302207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4378609914618302207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4378609914618302207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4378609914618302207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/to-dreamers.html' title='To The Dreamers'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-547573170992032708</id><published>2008-04-06T19:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:22:42.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Road to Change: PA Bus Tour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/tL8CnvRHFeU' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/tL8CnvRHFeU'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-547573170992032708?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/547573170992032708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=547573170992032708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/547573170992032708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/547573170992032708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/04/road-to-change-pa-bus-tour.html' title='Road to Change: PA Bus Tour'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1564275980208424637</id><published>2008-03-31T19:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T19:43:14.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today a boy in Teen Leaders crashed his car into the same tree that Christine did.  From what I hear, he was wearing his seat belt and is completely fine now.  It just shook me up a lot.  I had a dream about a week ago that I haven't yet forgotten.  It was about Christine.  In my dream, she had come out of her coma a year and a half ago instead of passing away.  She didn't have a lot of her motor skills and she couldn't talk still.  She could see and hear everyone, though.  She looked somewhat different than she had before the accident but I was used to it in the dream and it didn't affect anyone.  The dream was strange...I was at the Concord Mall with Becca, Amanda and Gill and we were talking about how we should go hang out with Christine after we left.  So we went over to her house and ate icecream just like we did in real life over winter break except for Christine was there.  Everything was exactly the same after we got to the house except Christine was there.  Its just weird that I dreamt about that because that could've happened.  If that had really happened, would I have had dreams about her dying?  I probably would, then wake up thankful that that didn't happen instead of upset that it weren't the way the dream were like I am now.  Sorry, this is so much rambling.  I'm stopping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1564275980208424637?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1564275980208424637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1564275980208424637' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1564275980208424637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1564275980208424637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/03/today-boy-in-teen-leaders-crashed-his.html' title=''/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-553512845107144355</id><published>2008-03-25T11:06:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T11:21:35.483-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More SB Pictures</title><content type='html'>Kristen requested I post more pictures..and since I'm pretty sure you're the only person I know who reads my blog, I figured I should so I don't lose my only reader haha =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kWfAsVxaI/AAAAAAAAACo/TEIqw0dvSyw/s1600-h/n854235645_2464137_3579.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kWfAsVxaI/AAAAAAAAACo/TEIqw0dvSyw/s320/n854235645_2464137_3579.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181697568284198306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was at Paradise Beach in Cozumel.  We got there around 9 in the morning so not many people were there yet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kWwwsVxbI/AAAAAAAAACw/t3Z47tGfc8Q/s1600-h/n854235645_2464138_5009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kWwwsVxbI/AAAAAAAAACw/t3Z47tGfc8Q/s320/n854235645_2464138_5009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181697873226876338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were parrots on Paradise Beach!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kXGgsVxdI/AAAAAAAAADA/HEwxmct_KaE/s1600-h/n854235645_2464567_5432.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kXGgsVxdI/AAAAAAAAADA/HEwxmct_KaE/s320/n854235645_2464567_5432.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181698246889031122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this right when we got to Beliz and the sun was rising (yes, we got up that early!).  You can see Sammy walking in the bottom right of the picture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhhh I've spent the last twenty minutes trying to post more pictures but it won't let me so I'm going to edit this post later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-553512845107144355?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/553512845107144355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=553512845107144355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/553512845107144355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/553512845107144355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/03/more-sb-pictures.html' title='More SB Pictures'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-kWfAsVxaI/AAAAAAAAACo/TEIqw0dvSyw/s72-c/n854235645_2464137_3579.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4708957084600308455</id><published>2008-03-22T11:48:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T12:22:38.141-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Ramble Worth Two Weeks</title><content type='html'>The cruise was absolutely AMAZING.  Here are just a few of the 200 pictures I took.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-UrPwsVxXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2DYxq-IIR3w/s1600-h/n854235645_2463185_7038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-UrPwsVxXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2DYxq-IIR3w/s320/n854235645_2463185_7038.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180594496128533874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was part of the upper deck of the ship.  There were tons of pools/hot tubs and all day a steel drum band played reggae songs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-Ur8AsVxYI/AAAAAAAAACY/rtbPndRO5oM/s1600-h/n854235645_2464439_5819.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-Ur8AsVxYI/AAAAAAAAACY/rtbPndRO5oM/s320/n854235645_2464439_5819.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180595256337745282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this when we got off the ship in Cozumel.  That water was crystal clear.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-UsWgsVxZI/AAAAAAAAACg/_6pSINgXT6Y/s1600-h/n854235645_2464463_1657.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-UsWgsVxZI/AAAAAAAAACg/_6pSINgXT6Y/s320/n854235645_2464463_1657.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180595711604278674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the ship!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cave tubing in Beliz was my favorite part of the trip by far.  We got up at 7am and took a boat to the shore of Beliz.  Our tour guide, Tomas, picked us up and he drove us through Beliz City.  It was such an interesting city.  They are going through some type of reform right now and everywhere there were signs and billboards about voting for the UDP which Tomas said is a democratic government.  It was so different from America.  Then we drove for about 40 minutes and we were at the rain forest!   It was unreal.  It felt like we had just left South Philly and all of a sudden we were at a rain forest!   We walked through the rain forest for half an hour until we got to the river.  I couldn't bring my camera because you get completely soaked cave tubing but  walking through that rain forest was the most breath taking and amazing experience of my life.   It was so beautiful.  The ceiling of the cave had crystals and diamonds.  We came up to the bottom of a waterfall where the water is completely pure and clean so everyone drank from it and got completely soaked.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were so many things we did.  We went to Paradise Beach in Cozumel.  It was full of palm trees and even had parrots!  Sammy and I bought huge $13 drinks from the tiki bar that probably would've been atleast 20 in the U.S.  The men that work the bar walk around the beach with bottles of tequila and pour it in your mouth while you lay out in the sun.  I don't know if I've felt as relaxed and free as I did on that beach.  It truly was paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beliz and Cozumel were our two big stops but on the ship there was so much to do!  There were 3,000 people on our ship and 1,000 of them were Spring Breakers!  Every single night was the biggest party you've ever been to on the ship.  We made a lot of friends (who were 21) ;) and lived it up almost every night.  There was a night club called The Dungeon and we went there a few nights.  There was a huge casino.  Every floor had tons of bars and all of them were packed.  The Royal Promenade was the size of a football field and full of places to eat, bars and shops.  It felt like we were walking in a town on the ship.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on forever about everything that we did and more details about the ship.  Two people told me that they thought I was the happiest I had been in a very long time when I got back to school on Sunday.  And then Monday came...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a very straining week.  On Wednesday I had a breakdown.  I felt like I let down someone really close to me, and that is the last thing I ever want to do.  I also have come to the realization that I'm not happy at West Chester anymore.  But, I'm not going into that right now.  I felt like I was failing in so many different aspects of my life.  Mom's in North Carolina visiting Kristen so she let me borrow the car so I could come home.  I needed some time to myself away from campus.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I came across a quote that I'm going to print out and take back to college with me on Sunday.  It's from one of the most inspiring people I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Making your mark on the world is hard. If it were easy, everybody would do it. But it's not. It takes patience, it takes commitment, and it comes with plenty of failure along the way. The real test is not whether you avoid this failure, because you won't. It's whether you let it harden or shame you into inaction, or whether you learn from it; whether you choose to persevere."&lt;br /&gt;-Barack Obama&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4708957084600308455?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4708957084600308455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4708957084600308455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4708957084600308455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4708957084600308455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/03/ramble-worth-two-weeks.html' title='A Ramble Worth Two Weeks'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R-UrPwsVxXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2DYxq-IIR3w/s72-c/n854235645_2463185_7038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-3538494446417565059</id><published>2008-03-08T16:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T16:32:47.165-05:00</updated><title type='text'>must see</title><content type='html'>i don't have time to save the video/upload it here and i dont have a youtube account so i cant just send it but i randomly came across this clip today so copy and paste the link if you want.  i had no clue what it was about or that the little girl would be singing a song so special to me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kris- i think you should watch this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWNoiVrJDsE &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm leaving tomorrow morning for ft.lauderdale and the ship leaves on monday morning!  i'm going to the mall to pick up a few last minute things then going to sammy's for the night so this is my last post until i get back from cozumel and beliz! i hope everyone has a great spring break and is safe :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-3538494446417565059?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/3538494446417565059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=3538494446417565059' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3538494446417565059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3538494446417565059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/03/must-see.html' title='must see'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-2601729062061797499</id><published>2008-03-06T01:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T01:21:06.505-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hokies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R8-MAovRDCI/AAAAAAAAACI/8FxW7AwO5AI/s1600-h/sit.with.us.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R8-MAovRDCI/AAAAAAAAACI/8FxW7AwO5AI/s320/sit.with.us.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174508439435545634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this secret on post secret tonight.  It made me really feel for them.  I think about Virginia Tech all the time.  I still think of all the victims, all the families who lost someone they love, every single VT student, and the gunman.  I wonder how someone could be so senseless and stupid and evil.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I will be thinking about everyone affected by the Virginia Tech shootings.  It should &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; be forgotten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-2601729062061797499?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/2601729062061797499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=2601729062061797499' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2601729062061797499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2601729062061797499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/03/hokies.html' title='The Hokies'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R8-MAovRDCI/AAAAAAAAACI/8FxW7AwO5AI/s72-c/sit.with.us.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5174879069341800528</id><published>2008-03-04T14:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T18:08:54.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss my friend</title><content type='html'>The other day I was really bored and decided to go through all of my old messages on myspace.  They went all the way back to my freshman year of high school.  There was one message I came across from Christine that she sent on February 6, 2006.  This is a little over 4 months before her accident.  It was a survey I posted for other people to fill out.  As I was reading it I laughed and smiled at her answers about me but once I finished reading it I got really sad.  I wanted more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three of the questions made me really miss her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If u could GIVE me anything, what would it be: A HUG!&lt;br /&gt;7. If u could ASK me one last thing, what would it be: how did you get to be so cool?&lt;br /&gt;8. If u could TELL me one last thing, what would it be: i like you a whole lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really miss her a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5174879069341800528?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5174879069341800528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5174879069341800528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5174879069341800528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5174879069341800528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-miss-my-friend.html' title='I miss my friend'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4737721929144129455</id><published>2008-02-28T11:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T12:09:55.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beliz, Concerts, Apartment :o)</title><content type='html'>Only seven more days til spring break.. I'm so excited.  My passport came in the mail last week.  While we're in Beliz we are doing this cave adventure trip where we walk about a half an hour to a cave then float in tubes through the cave for four hours.  It's named the most beautiful cave in the world.  I can't wait, I've never been so excited for a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The month of February has been crazy for me.  Last Tuesday Sammy and I saw the Spice Girls because I won tickets on Q102.  I ran into Dan Benzing from leaders.  We might be going to the J.Holiday/Trey Songz concert next Tuesday but I need to come up with the $35. I'm so broke.  Then March 28th we're seeing Lil Wayne at the Liacouras Center.  Hopefully we'll go to DMB over the summer, but so far this year has been pretty good with concerts :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we found out that we got an apartment on south campus.  I'm SO excited to have our own bathroom and kitchen.  I can't wait to cook actual meals instead of the shitty dining hall food that makes my stomach hurt.  Also, I'll have my car down there so I can probably start work again.  Over the summer I'll probably take summer courses either here or at Wilmington or Del Tech.  I'm going to try to get some tough classes out of the way.  The only problem is PACAA would take up a week of classes.  I'm going to ask the University if it would be possible to notify my professors at the beginning of the summer semester and still be able to make up any work I missed.  If not, then I won't take the classes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to take a nap.  I only got 2 hours of sleep because I needed to finish my research paper.  Someday soon I'll update about something important! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4737721929144129455?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4737721929144129455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4737721929144129455' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4737721929144129455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4737721929144129455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/02/beliz-concerts-apartment-o.html' title='Beliz, Concerts, Apartment :o)'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-6893479060890240831</id><published>2008-02-05T01:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T16:05:05.098-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear</title><content type='html'>I was just reading about a young girl who died of cancer and it got me really emotional.  Sometimes I can read those things and not get upset about Liam and other times it hits me as if it were Liam who I am reading about.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thinking about how tomorrow is not guaranteed and that everyone will eventually die makes me want to do the things I'm too scared to do.  Whether it be expressing how I feel to the person I love with no fear of being hurt or sky diving even though I have an intense fear of heights...I just want to do it right now.  All of it.  And I wish that tomorrow I wouldn't wake up and be back to my old self where the fear has taken over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-6893479060890240831?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/6893479060890240831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=6893479060890240831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6893479060890240831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6893479060890240831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/02/fear.html' title='Fear'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-6998439914963316269</id><published>2008-01-31T11:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T11:35:19.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Traveling</title><content type='html'>Kristen told me I need to update so I'm taking a few minutes to do so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has been crazy.  This past month has been a rollercoaster for me.  I got some really really great news concerning my health at the beginning of the month.  Towards the middle there was a lot of excitement with going back to west chester and some sadness in leaving my friends at home.  And now, at the end of the month, my life is so hectic! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully February will go by fast and then March will be here and Sammy and I will be on our way to Cozumel/Beliz!  I'm so excited and ready for the biggest trip I've ever been on.  I've only been out of the country once, and it was a day trip into Mexico because my Aunt Robin lived right over the border in Texas.  So, I feel like this is my first time really leaving the country and I couldn't be happier!  One of my biggest fears is dying without seeing enough of the world.  I want to see everything.  There is so much out there; its beyond my comprehension.  This trip will be the beginning of my traveling and hopefully there will be much more to come.  Becca and I were talking last night about planning a trip for junior year to backpack across Europe.  I would absolutely love to do that.  I don't want to stay in four-star hotels or pay to go to all of the well-known tourist attractions.  I want to discover and explore on my own.  I also don't have the money to be an average tourist but I think it would be more fun to rough it.  If I could guarantee one thing that would happen before I die it would be to explore every continent thoroughly.  (except maybe Antarctica) but I'd still like to go!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if this post is boring.. I guess the main reason why I haven't been updating is because I've been writing in my real journal a lot lately.  Some of the things I wanted to post about on here I was afraid to because I know people read this and they were really personal.  I wish I could be completely open on here but I have no clue who reads this or if it will change their perception of me.  And so...the boring posts will continue.  :) Maybe someday I'll find something interesting to talk about that is appropriate for cyber-space and for all those weirdos that I don't know who are reading this! haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-6998439914963316269?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/6998439914963316269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=6998439914963316269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6998439914963316269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6998439914963316269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/01/traveling.html' title='Traveling'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-7030185533934008224</id><published>2008-01-05T17:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T17:41:48.657-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Written Horribly But With Heart</title><content type='html'>My godmother, Marianna, passed away from cancer this past fall.  I saw her a week before she went and we talked about old memories.  I had to leave the room a few times because I would start to cry and didn't want her to see me like that.  I knew that was going to be the last time I saw her.  Before I left the room I looked into her eyes and tried so hard to make the goodbye as good as it could possibly be.  I've experienced losing people with no chance of saying goodbye, and that has always been the hardest part.  But being put in the situation, where I knew it was the final goodbye, may have been harder because you have to walk away from that person who is still alive knowing that the last double take you do will be the last time you will see them, ever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a Christmas present I hadn't opened yet.  It was still in the trunk of my mom's car from Christmas and I just brought it in tonight.  The gifts were dropped off by my Aunt Lauren to my grandparents house.  We opened the box tonight and inside were three boxes and a letter.  The letter was from Aunt Lauren saying that Marianna had made these three pieces of jewelry for my mom, Kristen and I.  Mine is a necklace with brown and turquiose beads which are my two favorite colors together. Months after I said goodbye to her, months after the funeral, I received a gift from her.  It blows my mind.  Marianna made beautiful jewelry.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I felt like my whole life was falling apart and my emotions were running low, a very special angel sent me a gift on the day I needed it most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-7030185533934008224?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/7030185533934008224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=7030185533934008224' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7030185533934008224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/7030185533934008224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2008/01/written-horribly-but-with-heart.html' title='Written Horribly But With Heart'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-769692140651611169</id><published>2007-12-25T01:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T02:24:45.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Traditions (and new!) I Never Want To Forget</title><content type='html'>Christmas eve was always a magical night for me when I was younger.  On the ride home from church every year I would swear I saw Santa's sled in the sky.  Then when we got out, I would tell Dad to listen really hard to hear the jingling bells on the sleigh.  He would turn one ear to the sky, get a inquisitive look on his face then look down at me with a smile on his face and say, "I hear it."  Christmas eve was always more exciting for me than Christmas day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year on Christmas eve when I was no older than four or five, Dad went up in the bathroom while Kristen and I helped Mom with the cookies in the kitchen.  Really, we were just licking the extra dough off of the spoons she used and making a mess with sprinkles and icing.  Anyway, this year, Dad yelled from the upstairs bathroom, "Kristen and Kelsey...come here!  I have a surprise for you!"  So, as any four and six year olds would do, we darted out of the kitchen, raced up the stairs and jumped into the bathroom in front of Dad, just to see something we never expected.  Dad had shaved off all of his facial hair, including the red mustache he had all of the years we had been alive.  I looked in the sink and saw a pile of wirey hairs, then looked at Dad's face, no longer recognizing the once hairy man who was now only skin.  Kristen and I, both shocked and scared of this man who looked nothing like our Dad, screamed and ran down the stairs faster than we had run up them.  At this point we were crying and hiding behind Mom's legs, saying how scared we were of Dad.  Mom had no idea what he had done until he walked downstairs with his head hung low, disappointed by our reaction.  She took a quick glance at him and let out a loud "HA!" and said, "Girls, he shaved his face!"  Dad sweet talked us until we came out from behind her and he picked me up.  I touched his soft cheek, moved my fingers down to his chin then to his upper lip.  I had never even realized that under all of that hair he had skin!  I smiled with amazement at the smooth face I was looking at.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that night, it became a tradition for Dad to shave his facial hair every Christmas eve.  Every year Kristen and I would wait around downstairs until he finished shaving then act suprised when he came down, bare as a baby's bottom.  We would climb in his lap and feel the soft face we had waited for all year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since we were little, on Christmas eve Kristen and I would get to pick one present under the tree to open.  Mom learned the hard way that letting us pick which one we wanted to open was a bad idea.  One year Kristen got a pair of socks while I got a really pretty bracelet.  I bragged out of excitement about how beautiful my bracelet was while Kristen solemnly stretched out the socks that had kittens wearing Santa hats on them.  After that, Mom began to pick the presents so they were of equal value.  One year we got pajamas.  Mine were silk and had yellow rubber duckies on them.  The silk made my legs itch for some reason, but I wore the pajamas all night and Christmas morning anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Christmas eve tradition which was started in more recent years, is that Mom, Kristen and I go to Romeos.  One year after the church service we were extremely hungry and knew the only place open at 8:00 on Christmas eve would be Romeos.  So we went there, ate our italian food and laughed at how empty all of Branmar Plaza was, while we three crazy girls were happily eating our fast food.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, though, has not been the traditional Christmas eve.  We went to Romeo's at 5:45 just to learn that they closed in fifteen minutes.  And so, for the first year in five, we got the food to go and ate it at home.  Also, Kristen and I didn't go to the Christmas eve service with Mom.  Her and James went while we went to Meghan's house for their Christmas party.  Then, when we came home, Mom and James were baking cookies in the kitchen.  I helped out a little, but the kitchen is barely made for two.  And so, Kristen and I sat back and played Brain Age and Jetman like the dorks we are.  James made cookies that were made from sour cream.  They had just finished baking all of their special pistachio, walnuts and sour cream cookies when I realized that's not what we usually make for Christmas.  So I demanded we make the original peanut butter cookies with the criss-cross markings in the center.  I guess you could say I'm traditional.  Honestly, though, I think I'm just scared of losing the feeling I got on Christmas eve when I was younger.  I never want that magical feeling to go away.  And now, as I'm writing this, I'm realizing that it won't.  Old traditions may go, like Dad shaving his beard, and new traditions may come, like a change up in cookies, but that Christmas eve feeling that can't be felt on any other night but December 24th, it will never, ever go away.  And plus, I think its good to make new traditions.  It creates more memories, and to me, memories are the best Christmas gift I could ever receive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just one of the millions of pictures Kristen and I took on photo booth tonight.  I picked this one because we only had a few with Mom.  We will always be the three crazy girls with the only car in the parking lot at the italian restaurant on Christmas eve.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R3CuDQLbT9I/AAAAAAAAAB0/KUjX2JTc1lM/s1600-h/thethreeofus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R3CuDQLbT9I/AAAAAAAAAB0/KUjX2JTc1lM/s320/thethreeofus.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147805744990212050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-769692140651611169?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/769692140651611169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=769692140651611169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/769692140651611169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/769692140651611169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/12/old-traditions-i-never-want-to-forget.html' title='Old Traditions (and new!) I Never Want To Forget'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R3CuDQLbT9I/AAAAAAAAAB0/KUjX2JTc1lM/s72-c/thethreeofus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-4519667715485939804</id><published>2007-12-12T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T21:48:03.183-05:00</updated><title type='text'>December Is My Favorite Month</title><content type='html'>Although there is never a good time for bad news, I feel that it is best to find out around Christmas time.  I'm listening to Christmas songs, with only one lamp on in the room, sipping on hot chocolate and bundled up in warm clothes.  I can't be sad about anything right now because nothing beats a relaxing December night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to decorate our tree, decorate the apartment and be with my family.  My emotions are very high right now.  I caught a glimpse of a commercial earlier and it was family reuniting at Christmas.  It made me start cry.  Nick texted me telling me to smile and I read it right before starting my Spanish final.  It made a few tears go down my cheek as well and normally I would just smile and be thankful for great friends.  But now, everything makes me so emotional.  Happy things, sad things, everything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm cleaning out my room right now and defrosting my fridge because I'm done my finals and going home soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-4519667715485939804?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/4519667715485939804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=4519667715485939804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4519667715485939804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/4519667715485939804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/12/december-is-my-favorite-month.html' title='December Is My Favorite Month'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-6711962669452915517</id><published>2007-12-11T15:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:29:17.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile</title><content type='html'>Today has been awful.  On top of the bad things that happened this morning, my back is hurting more than ever.  My doctor's office closed early today so I don't get my prescription for pain killers until tomorrow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT...I've realized after giving myself about an hour to feel sorry for myself, that there are many many people that are going through much worse things than me.  And that this time in my life is just a little speed bump.  I know everything will be okay.  The most important thing is to keep smiling.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-6711962669452915517?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/6711962669452915517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=6711962669452915517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6711962669452915517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6711962669452915517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/12/smile.html' title='Smile'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-8146064565163542175</id><published>2007-12-10T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T19:12:43.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clarification</title><content type='html'>For One More Day (the movie) was AWFUL and very disappointing.   It was mostly because the actor who played Charlie was terrible and does not even deserve to be acting in a movie presented by Oprah.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I need to start studying for finals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-8146064565163542175?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/8146064565163542175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=8146064565163542175' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8146064565163542175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/8146064565163542175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/12/clarification.html' title='Clarification'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-6680832303681330370</id><published>2007-12-09T19:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T19:59:27.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For One More Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R1yMC53SIEI/AAAAAAAAABs/ixAWxS1FYGY/s1600-h/post+secret.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R1yMC53SIEI/AAAAAAAAABs/ixAWxS1FYGY/s320/post+secret.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142138856070586434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my favorite post cards off of post secret.  I just found it again and realized I have been taking a lot of days for granted lately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight the movie For One More Day is coming on.  It was a book by Mitch Albom who is my favorite author by far.  I loved the book and cried the whole way through it.  I remember sitting in one of my 500 study halls senior year reading that book and trying to hide my face because I couldn't stop the tears.  If you've never read it and don't want me to spoil it then skip the rest of this paragraph.  Its a pretty complicated book but basically, the main character loses his Mom and in return becomes an alcoholic and loses his wife and kids.  He gets trashed one night and decides to drive to his home town because he misses his mother.  On the way he crashes his car while trying to get off of the exit to his home town.  Somehow he walks away without a mark while his car is just a pile of metal.  He walks the rest of the way to his house and then sees his mother in the baseball field where he used to play.  At this point, I realized he must have been dreaming.  He is given one last day to spend with his mother.  At the end of the book you find out that he was actually unconscious and still trapped in his car...and that somewhere between life and death he was given the gift of a day with his mom.  There are many other twists and turns and it is a great read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this time of year.  Christmas and snow just make me so happy.  It makes me miss Christine and Liam a lot, though.  I think everyone misses someone around the holidays.  Another thing is that this will be the first Christmas I spend without a certain someone since EIGHTH GRADE.  Its hard to believe and makes me feel really lonely but not because I miss him.  I will just miss having someone to love during such a beautiful time of the year.  I will miss walking around Media in the snow and dinner dates at Brodeur's or Iron Hill.  BUT it's okay, because I will get to see my best friends when I go home and Sammy said she is visiting a lot over break so I know I'll but just fine.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-6680832303681330370?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/6680832303681330370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=6680832303681330370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6680832303681330370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/6680832303681330370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/12/for-one-more-day.html' title='For One More Day'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R1yMC53SIEI/AAAAAAAAABs/ixAWxS1FYGY/s72-c/post+secret.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-2467853568492808397</id><published>2007-12-08T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T15:11:01.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>S'mores</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R1r5VZ3SIDI/AAAAAAAAABk/xQiP9Nch0HY/s1600-h/cosi+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R1r5VZ3SIDI/AAAAAAAAABk/xQiP9Nch0HY/s200/cosi+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141696070712172594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was crazy.  I'm not gonna get into it but I had so much fun with the girls.  I'm finally starting to feel like I'm making some best friends at college.  That picture is us at Cosi last night....me, sammy, alissa, jess s. and jess f. went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm going to a holiday party at the hockey house with some of the girls.  Then finals start on Tuesday..end Wednesday and I'm going home Friday cause I want to chill here a few more nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited for Christmas.  And to meet my Mom's boyfriend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-2467853568492808397?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/2467853568492808397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=2467853568492808397' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2467853568492808397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/2467853568492808397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/12/smores.html' title='S&apos;mores'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R1r5VZ3SIDI/AAAAAAAAABk/xQiP9Nch0HY/s72-c/cosi+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1947233091302352043</id><published>2007-11-27T10:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T10:47:56.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Robbery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R0w2Ffh4TQI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZlJnpYTr75g/s1600-h/ihatethispicture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R0w2Ffh4TQI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZlJnpYTr75g/s320/ihatethispicture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137540742913740034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first picture taken of us.  It was about four years ago.  I wish that I wasn't smiling and that I hated you from the start.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ruined me and I'll never forgive you.  You will always be a part of me, and not because I want you to but because every time I see a stupid white Chevy Blazer or hear your name, I will cringe and be reminded of how much I despise you.  You are nothing more to me than the nausea in my stomach when your name is brought up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1947233091302352043?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1947233091302352043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1947233091302352043' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1947233091302352043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1947233091302352043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/11/robbery.html' title='Robbery'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R0w2Ffh4TQI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZlJnpYTr75g/s72-c/ihatethispicture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-3722607816680068263</id><published>2007-11-24T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T00:33:46.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome To The Good Life</title><content type='html'>Right now I'm really happy to be home.  I never thought I would say that but I'm realizing how good I had it before I left for college.  I can just walk into the kitchen and grab anything I want to eat without having to worry about how much food I should save to last me through the next few weeks.  Also, I never took advantage of baths because I thought they were gross but I just took a bath since I don't have that option at school and it was the best thing in the world!  If I have to go to the bathroom I don't have to worry about putting shoes on because I have my own.  There are a million other things...I feel like I'm living in luxury right now.  But I know by Sunday I'll be ready to go back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far on break I have seen Meghan, Steve, Nick, Lara and Amanda out of all of my friends.  Tomorrow a bunch of us are going to the Lucianos for lunch so I'll get to see Gill, Danny, Frankie, Doug and some other people I haven't seen yet.  Then tomorrow night I think a 6 month highschool reunion? haha &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got in a minor fight with my Dad at Thanksgiving.  It still makes me upset that he is the way he is and I cannot do anything about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Lots of good pics coming up as soon as I get back to school&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-3722607816680068263?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/3722607816680068263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=3722607816680068263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3722607816680068263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/3722607816680068263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/11/welcome-to-good-life.html' title='Welcome To The Good Life'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-1173705982115719338</id><published>2007-11-20T01:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T02:41:18.688-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Foreshadowing Event</title><content type='html'>I will never forget the countless evenings my sister and I spent on the front step of our old house on Knowles Road.  We would sit out there, usually with our hands over our ears, because Mom and Dad were fighting, again.  One of us would begin to cry and the other would join in with the tears instead of focusing on what our parents were fighting about.  There was this one time, though, that we refused to go out on that cement step.  It was the first time I really understood what it was to regret.  After experiencing one of their arguments for the first time, I never thought twice about sitting with my hands cupped over my tiny ears on that rough, cement stoop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our washing machine had broken and Mom called someone to come over and fix it.  After she hung up the phone, Dad expressed his anger about something I cannot remember.  Mom quickly walked up to him until she was only a foot away from his face and began yelling.  Her nose turned bright red, as it does when she is very upset and angry, and she let out her rage.  The fight had begun and it was my sister and my cue to go outside.  Instead, we sat side-by-side on the bottom step of our staircase, only one room away from the quarrel.  I didn't cover my ears or even cry, but took in all of the raw words slowly eating away at my sanity.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty minutes later, the argument had escaleded and I could hear Mom's sobs through her words.  Also, they had each come around the corner of the kitchen atleast 10 times and quickly asked Kristen and I to go to our rooms or outside.  Without saying, "no" or moving a single muscle, my sister and I would sit silently, still staring at the wood floor.  Before long, there was a hard knock on the front door.  The knock forced my first movement since I sat down on the uncomfortable step.  Mom, with more than just a red nose but also red puffy eyes, let the mechanic inside.  He seemed disturbed by what he saw.  My Dad was standing in the kitchen with clenched fists, my sister and I were still sitting on the steps with blank faces and my Mom was slowly walking him to the laundry room.  He got to work without a question asked or word spoken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my disbelief, they continued to argue in the kitchen.  Mom had thrown something, which I assumed was a book of some sort, and Dad continued raising his deep voice.  I looked down at my feet and noticed that my legs were shaking.  I had not shown the slightest bit of emotion, but it was apparent that I was filled to the brim with fear.  Mom ran out of the kitchen and parted Kristen and I as she quickly ran up to her bedroom.  I was scared to go into her room but moved a few more steps up the staircase so I could try and make out some of her mumbling.  Kristen then stood up, reminding me she was even sitting next to me, and walked into Mom's room.  I followed behind her and saw my Mom stuffing clothes into a large, leather suitcase.  She looked at us with sad eyes and asked us to go into our rooms for what seemed to be the eightieth time that night.  When we refused she angrily said, "Go to your room, girls."  And so we listened.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat on our beds, listening to them still yelling although they were now on different floors.  The arguing died down, the mechanic had left, and I thought that the fight was over.  I wished that when I opened my bedroom door I would see my parents hugging in the hallway, apologizing to each other.  I wanted to hear my Dad tell my Mom he loved her and help her unpack the suitcase she had frantically packed.  I slowly opened my door, the only sound being the creak of dry hinges.  I saw Mom dragging the huge suitcase down the stairs.  I leaped at her and tugged on her arm saying, "Mom, where are you going?  You can't leave!"  She opened her tear-filled eyes, looked down at me and said, "I have to."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a warm stream go over my cheekbone, into the crevice of my nose, over my quivering lips and down off my chin.  Finally, I had shown a glimpse of what I was feeling on the inside.  I begged her not to go, all the way out to the cement step.  She quickly got in her car and I stood on the front step until I saw the lights of her car turn right at the stop sign and knew she was really gone.  I sat down on the cement step, which was now where I knew I had belonged that night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-1173705982115719338?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/1173705982115719338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=1173705982115719338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1173705982115719338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/1173705982115719338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/11/foreshadowing-event.html' title='A Foreshadowing Event'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-235784822133507392</id><published>2007-11-19T18:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T18:53:23.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Superman</title><content type='html'>So today is the day I dread all year.  November 19th is Liam's day and it is impossible to not have an aching heart.  I know I've said this before, but it really does hurt.  When I miss Liam (or Christine) my heart literally aches.  It's such a strange thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to think of a way to make this post uplifting, and not sad.  If I just rambled it would be very depressing, but today should be a celebration of Liam.  One of the most powerful things that Liam still does is bring people together.  At his services, people from all over the country came together.  At the balloon release, Liam's family from California came, his teachers and classmates, his best friends, his entire extended family, people from church and co-workers of his parents...everyone came together and leaned on one another.  The way he brings us together goes even deeper.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liam brought me closer to my Dad.  Ever since my parents divorced when I was in 6th grade, my Dad and I have grown apart.  And I never anticipated it happening.  I tried so hard to see my Dad and stay close with him.  But then he became an out-of-control alcoholic and I couldn't go over to his house anymore.  He would yell at me and drive me around drunk and I decided in highschool to stop going to his house.  We hadn't really gotten closer after that.  I felt like my Dad didn't know me anymore and that I had grown up without him.  My Dad knew that November 19th was the day that Liam died and that it would be a hard day.  He wrote me an e-mail expressing his concern and telling me he wanted to cook me my favorite food for dinner, salmon.  In his e-mail he said "KELS, I WILL BE CHECKING IN A LITTLE MORE THAN USUAL THE NEXT TWO WEEKS IF YOU DO NOT MIND. I KNOW YOU WILL BE SUPER BUSY AND DO NOT WORRY ABOUT REPLYING. JUST TO SEND YOU A FEW NOTES FOR YOU TO READ IN YOUR LITTLE BIT OF SPARE TIME. HANG IN THERE AND BE TOUGH JUST LIKE LIAM WAS(AND IS)." He always write in CAPS.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad and I have been talking a lot more and I'm starting to forgive him for things that he's done to me.  And it's all because of Liam.  He has saved my relationship with my Dad and I am thankful to have my Dad back in my life more than he has been the past 7 years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liam doesn't know how much of a teacher he was to us all.  That's what makes him even more amazing.  I miss Liam more than anything right now.  I miss making him smile and laugh because he deserved to be the happiest boy on the planet.  Liam was such a strong boy for 5 years old.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget what Alli, his little sister, said when she was in Liam's garden.  She said, "If you look really hard up into the sky, you can see his angel wings."  It brings tears to my eyes that a four year old girl could think that.  She is right, somedays I stare up at the sky and think of Liam.  And all of a sudden I feel him next to me.  He is still here, we just can't see him, only feel him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Liam,&lt;br /&gt;I miss you so much, little buddy.  I'm sorry I didn't send you balloons today.  I just wasn't up for it, but I promise you will be getting a nice letter and some orange balloons soon!  Thank you for being my daily inspiration.  I don't know what I would do without you, still.  Even though you're in Heaven now, I know I still can draw from your strength and get through anything.  You're always by our sides.  &lt;br /&gt;I love you, Superman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R0Ihzfh4TOI/AAAAAAAAABI/vrAx8F5wZIU/s1600-h/liamonthephone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R0Ihzfh4TOI/AAAAAAAAABI/vrAx8F5wZIU/s320/liamonthephone.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134703693676432610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-235784822133507392?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/235784822133507392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=235784822133507392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/235784822133507392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/235784822133507392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/11/superman.html' title='Superman'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/R0Ihzfh4TOI/AAAAAAAAABI/vrAx8F5wZIU/s72-c/liamonthephone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-5666850425909649477</id><published>2007-11-13T12:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:53:27.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>November 13th</title><content type='html'>Exactly two years ago today was the last time I saw Liam.  It was right around this time too because I had just gotten out of church.  At this point, Liam had very dark circles under his eyes.  He had gone blind in one of his eyes 4 months before and he could barely open the other one because it was so swollen.  When I came over Liam was crying on the couch because he was in so much pain.  I sat on the floor next to the couch and wished so badly that I could take the pain away from him.  I prayed that his cancer could be transferred to my body and he would be healed.  I lightly touched his back and he screamed.  His whole body was hurting tremendously.  Mrs. Kane wanted to take him out back because it was a beautiful day.  Mr. Kane carried Liam out back and Liam had stopped crying. Mrs. Kane brought out Christmas music because they had celebrated Christmas early since they knew Liam would not make it to December 25th.  Liam loved Christmas music too.  Liam and Mrs. Kane layed down on the outside swing and I went upstairs to find Lamby and Moosey (Liam's stuffed lamb and moose).  I found them and brought them down anxiously awaiting to see Liam smile.  I gave them to him and Mrs. Kane told him that they were Lamby and Moosey.  And Liam cried.  It broke my heart in half.  I wanted to make him smile and happy more than anything in the world.  It was the only thing on my mind and my only goal in life at the time.  I wanted to free Liam of the awful pain he felt, how his head felt like "its going to crack" - his words.  But it was impossible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I knew that was the last time I was going to see Liam.  I knew subconsciously.  Before I left I looked back at him atleast twenty times, back on the couch.  I was waiting for my Mom to pick me back up from their house.  Then I saw her car pull up and I got a knot in my stomach because I didn't want to stop looking at Liam.  So I said goodbye and walked out of the door.  Mrs. Kane was in the garage and I talked to her for a few minutes before I left.  Slowly, Liam walked to the door.  Mrs. Kane went to the door and picked him up to bring him outside.  She was so happy that he had walked to the door.  He wanted to be around people, Liam hated being alone.  And so my Mom got out of the car once she saw Liam and came down the driveway.  After we left, we were pulling away and the windows were down because I was saying goodbye to Mrs. Kane.  Liam, now standing on their front step, said as loud as his weak body would let him,  "Kelsey, I love you".  And my Mom stopped the car as I shouted, "I love you too, Liam!"  She pulled away quickly because I could no longer hold in my tears.  The last words Liam ever said to me were Kelsey I love you.  And I am so grateful to still have this memory.  It makes me depressed but at the same time, very lucky.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would do anything to hear him say those words again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-5666850425909649477?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/5666850425909649477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=5666850425909649477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5666850425909649477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/5666850425909649477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/11/november-13th.html' title='November 13th'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6089142827115045243.post-596869325236555147</id><published>2007-11-11T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T23:25:13.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/RzfSpqMcMcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Njh1WFMm7ag/s1600-h/817183362306_0_ALB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/RzfSpqMcMcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Njh1WFMm7ag/s320/817183362306_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131801913554907586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Kane sent out pictures of Alli the other day.  She is growing up so fast.  This past October she turned 5.  It's hard for me to believe that she is now how old Liam was when he passed away.  She is becoming more and more beautiful everytime I see her, and more and more like Liam.  I'm sure I'll have a post in the next week or so that is dedicated to Liam because it will be two years on November 19th.  He's been on my mind more than usual lately, and it's been hard to focus on life.  I'm learning how to keep my life in line during hard times.  I think its really important to find a way to do that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, school is getting harder.  I got a bad grade on my last psychology test when I thought I did really well.  I'm waiting to find out about my sociology test from Thursday, but I have a feeling it won't be very good either.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered this new artist tonight.  She is unsigned and not very well heard of, but I'm sure that soon she will be on the charts.  Her name is Debra Arlyn.  If anyone wants to check her out, my favorite songs are "Let It Go", "Fine" and "Why Can't We Start Over?".  She's great.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to bed early tonight.  I hurt my head pretty bad last night and I have had the worst head ache all day.  My forehead is swollen where I hit it too.  But its a really good story..if you would like to hear it, I will be glad to tell. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6089142827115045243-596869325236555147?l=withyoubymyside.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/feeds/596869325236555147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6089142827115045243&amp;postID=596869325236555147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/596869325236555147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6089142827115045243/posts/default/596869325236555147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://withyoubymyside.blogspot.com/2007/11/break.html' title='My First Post'/><author><name>Kelsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06286674438190576414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/STPStJfT5BI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6Xg9BZ-OnZ0/S220/n854235645_3722237_2933.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n9wG8u82sME/RzfSpqMcMcI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Njh1WFMm7ag/s72-c/817183362306_0_ALB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
