<?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-458497200356842294</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:52:42.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rantings of a Passionate Musician</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-5981950554196449148</id><published>2009-07-13T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T22:06:17.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Simplicity of Life</title><content type='html'>So I'm taking a break from the 'nanny' portion of my blog to share a eureka I recently had.  However, before I explain my amazing revelation, I must share this picture of a princess I have the privilege of hanging with every day.  This is what happens when you give 3 year olds too much cake:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwQtpag0UI/AAAAAAAAAEo/H3yGrkeAJNI/s1600-h/Photo_07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwQtpag0UI/AAAAAAAAAEo/H3yGrkeAJNI/s320/Photo_07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358176033061261634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went camping this past weekend with my brother and friends and had an amazing realization:  camping makes people happier.  Now, I realize I live in Idaho.  And in Idaho, it's not weird for people to come up in the grocery line and ask you why you're buying barbecue sauce and suddenly invite themselves to your party.  I wish I was exaggerating.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't matter what we were doing, hiking, biking, swimming... everyone was helpful and excited to talk to us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess there's something to be said about the simplicity of life.  When you take away the 'toys' (which seem SO NEEDED)... what is left is rest, peace, and relaxation.  Sure, sleeping in a tent is not the warmest nor the most comfortable, but when your biggest stress in life is whether or not your marshmallow is going to be 'perfectly bronzed' then the other things just seem to melt in the wind.  Take a look at your life and ask yourself.. is all this stuff really bringing more to my life or really taking it away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwRJemsfZI/AAAAAAAAAEw/56acCsKXEpY/s1600-h/Camping+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwRJemsfZI/AAAAAAAAAEw/56acCsKXEpY/s320/Camping+015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358176511195905426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our amazing campsite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwSHDVWRvI/AAAAAAAAAE4/HW0az0MeJm4/s1600-h/Camping+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwSHDVWRvI/AAAAAAAAAE4/HW0az0MeJm4/s320/Camping+021.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358177569027278578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe Emma had more stress than simply roasting the perfect mallow.... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-5981950554196449148?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/5981950554196449148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=5981950554196449148' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5981950554196449148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5981950554196449148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/07/simplicity-of-life.html' title='The Simplicity of Life'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SlwQtpag0UI/AAAAAAAAAEo/H3yGrkeAJNI/s72-c/Photo_07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-607337308615321992</id><published>2009-07-02T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T20:37:23.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fourth of July!</title><content type='html'>Growing up in a family where we make huge deals out of every holiday, I always get fluttery and excited the week before each occasion.  This year's Fourth of July is no exception!  So, intent on making my two small subjects as patriotic as possible, this week has been filled with red, white and blue!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we're merely a day away from the big day, but if any of you are lacking for creative ideas until then, here are a few!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Flag Nails:&lt;br /&gt;We painted our nails like flags... and they thought it was really cool we all matched!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk15jt3a-jI/AAAAAAAAAEA/REaZ_Gyx2-4/s1600-h/mail.google.com.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 166px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk15jt3a-jI/AAAAAAAAAEA/REaZ_Gyx2-4/s320/mail.google.com.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354069186527820338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Flag vests:&lt;br /&gt;I got this idea off my fellow-nanny, Monique, who saw it in a Martha Stewart article.  Simply start with a paper bag, turn it upside down and paint a picture of a flag on the front.  After you have helped them paint the flag, have them decorate the front and back with all sorts of things, stickers, markers, paint... whatever they choose!  At the end, cut off the handles, cut a hole for their head and both arms, then a slit down the front to make a vest!  It's a great, creative idea to get them in the patriotic spirit!  (and they will look super cute!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk16HhyQQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/7j9o4SjrPUI/s1600-h/Summer+2009+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk16HhyQQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/7j9o4SjrPUI/s320/Summer+2009+071.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354069801760211906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk16imdN68I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/2mrC6cNVaO4/s1600-h/Summer+2009+072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk16imdN68I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/2mrC6cNVaO4/s320/Summer+2009+072.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354070266870623170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Flag treats&lt;br /&gt;This is both fun and yummy!  We made cupcakes then decorated them with red, white, and blue... then stuck little toothpick flags in each one!  It was super messy but so much fun!  Also, we made a strawberry pie... put cool whip on the top then made a 'flag' with strawberries and blueberries.  The girls loved the little flags so much they stuck them all over this as well!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk17dgk6HFI/AAAAAAAAAEY/e3ZXA-Buvgw/s1600-h/Summer+2009+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk17dgk6HFI/AAAAAAAAAEY/e3ZXA-Buvgw/s320/Summer+2009+074.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354071278904548434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk18Dfib2dI/AAAAAAAAAEg/MFMPIwRCW7s/s1600-h/Summer+2009+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk18Dfib2dI/AAAAAAAAAEg/MFMPIwRCW7s/s320/Summer+2009+075.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354071931460770258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you have fun with these ideas... and happy Fourth!!!!!!!!  God bless the USA!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-607337308615321992?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/607337308615321992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=607337308615321992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/607337308615321992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/607337308615321992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/07/fourth-of-july.html' title='The Fourth of July!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/Sk15jt3a-jI/AAAAAAAAAEA/REaZ_Gyx2-4/s72-c/mail.google.com.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-2325010619277351044</id><published>2009-06-23T15:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T16:03:58.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Nanny!</title><content type='html'>ok blogging world, I have become a nanny.  Yes, that's right, one of those wonderful people who have the privilege of navigating children who are not your own... for an entire summer.  Going into it, I had the goal of being the BEST NANNY EVER to my two young subjects, Madison and Emily.  They are the most GORGEOUS girls in the WORLD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFdzUHhSuI/AAAAAAAAADo/6saVl-jQ_oU/s1600-h/Summer+2009+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFdzUHhSuI/AAAAAAAAADo/6saVl-jQ_oU/s320/Summer+2009+035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350660968447822562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, intent on the goal to make every day like Christmas... or the house the 'happiest place on earth' or some similar thing, I have been wracking my brain for ideas.  Thankfully, I'm in a community where several other friends are nannies as well, which helps for trading ideas and of course funny stories.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this summer I will dedicate a large portion of my blog for such things, in hopes that I will bring some relief and creative ideas to my nanny friends (and stay-at-home moms!), far and wide.  I haven't had to deal with the pranks SOME children try to pull (my girls really are angels!) but here's some ideas we have tried thus far!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Beauty Pageant - I know some of you might have male subjects, but if not, 7 year old Madison and 3 year old Emily LOVED this!  I simply chose outfits they already had for all the categories (opening number, talent, swimsuit, evening gown), used a kareoke machine for the microphone, taught them choreography for the opening, and had them each prepare a talent!  Also, I did makeup and hair in between each category.  They went crazy over wearing mascara for the first time!!!  (don't worry, I scrubbed it off before dad got home!).  It took up almost an entire day (with a trip to the park and lunch in between).  It was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Bikerides- now my girls love to be active and outside, but they can get pretty tired really fast.  So, I strapped a bike trolly to the back of my bike and went on a 10 mile bikeride!  I kept them entertained by throwing books their way, and by swerving all over the street which sent them into giggles.  We had a break in the middle by going to a playground.  They loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Pool/picnics - this is a must for summer activities. Getting outside in the sun is therapeutic for nanny and kids alike, not to mention you get a really great tan!  And what is it about the swings that NEVER gets old???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFeyfOtLPI/AAAAAAAAADw/3VFAvmYzVzY/s1600-h/Summer+2009+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFeyfOtLPI/AAAAAAAAADw/3VFAvmYzVzY/s320/Summer+2009+017.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350662053762510066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Slushie runs - I LOVE slushies in summer, and what better reason do you have to get out of the house than to run to your local slushie shack and beat the summer heat?  It doesn't cost much, and it's an adventure the kids will appreciate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Yesterday we did an activity inspired by my fellow nanny, Emma!  We went on a hunt in the morning to find large, flat rocks.  After our walk, we used crayons to color on the stones (bright colors are best) then I baked them in the oven at 350 for about 5 minutes, and the wax baked into the stones!  You can also bake them in the sun - but it takes much longer and it has to be a really hot day!  They made stones for the dog (which we placed by his water bowl), mom, dad, rabbits... and everyone else they could think of!  They loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFfT8r60mI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aIF9D8_nN3M/s1600-h/Summer+2009+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFfT8r60mI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aIF9D8_nN3M/s320/Summer+2009+029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350662628605350498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep posting my ideas, fee free to share any additional ones you may have.  May Summer '09 be your best yet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-2325010619277351044?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/2325010619277351044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=2325010619277351044' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2325010619277351044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2325010619277351044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/06/nanny.html' title='The Nanny!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SkFdzUHhSuI/AAAAAAAAADo/6saVl-jQ_oU/s72-c/Summer+2009+035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-2685764169133605079</id><published>2009-02-24T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T09:26:49.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>25 - Too Early for a Mid-Life Crisis???</title><content type='html'>I think I must have a familiar face.  People are always coming up to me saying I look like their cousin… or daughter… or best friend.  Often, I even have people mistake me for others and actually call me the wrong name.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But usually, people mistake me for other girls my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Baton Rouge, Louisiana this past weekend, I had an incredible time with Lisa, Hannah, and the other women of &lt;a href="http://www.healingplacechurch.org"&gt;Healing Place Church&lt;/a&gt;!  It was one of those trips where I came back truly refreshed and excited about all God is doing all around the world!  When we landed on Friday, the sweet women who picked us up drove us to &lt;a href="http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com"&gt;Whole Foods Market&lt;/a&gt;, our favorite ‘quick lunch’ place – where we ate yummy gelato and salad (obviously gelato from Whole Foods is healthy… right???).  While perusing the rice bowls, a woman behind the counter came up to me and said, in broken English, ‘do you live in New York?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled and said no, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.  She conversed quietly with her friend in Chinese for a moment and then came back to me saying ‘you the girl from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Taken&lt;/span&gt;!’  I turned to Lisa and said ‘oh… she thinks I’m the girl from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Taken&lt;/span&gt;… namely Shannon from LOST.’  However, then she corrected me… ‘NO!  Not girl from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Taken&lt;/span&gt;… MOM from Taken.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that’s right.  She didn’t think I was the daughter, she thought I was the mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her defense, &lt;a href="http://www.famkejanssen.net/"&gt;Famke Janssen&lt;/a&gt; had been in that particular store the day before, visiting Baton Rouge for some Southern hospitality.  However, for the first time I started feeling…. Old!  Have I crossed the proverbial threshold from childhood to womanhood?  Are there invisible gray hairs or wrinkles obvious to others, yet oblivious when I look in the mirror?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgive my girlish rantings, but this has followed me the past few days and I really do need to share my burden with the blogging world before me.  Now Tuesday, I found myself looking up her ACTUAL age online.  I quietly gasped as I read she is… 43.  That’s right, almost 20 years my superior.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I go out and do something drastic – such as Botox – I’m going to take a deep breath and remember… she IS a celebrity after all.  She played in X-Men so she must be viewed as powerful and attractive… and I need to stop taking to heart what I hear Whole Foods Rice Bar women saying about me.  I’m only 25 and am not yet ready for a mid-life crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with age comes wisdom… and I am SO ready to be wise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-2685764169133605079?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/2685764169133605079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=2685764169133605079' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2685764169133605079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2685764169133605079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-too-early-for-mid-life-crisis.html' title='25 - Too Early for a Mid-Life Crisis???'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-6124230930368492780</id><published>2009-02-14T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:10:50.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentines Day... Not for the single?</title><content type='html'>I remember when I was about 8.  I was obsessed with the idea of my dad sending me flowers on Valentines Day.  But they couldn't be just ANY flowers.  They had to be the kind of flowers with baby's breath.  Yes, baby's breath.  When I get something in my mind, I won't STOP until I see it actualized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad has always been so good to me.  His unconditional love has showed me that I don't NEED the affection of a guy to be happy.  His love has made me content with being single and being faithful to who God has called me to be, whether single or otherwise (oh, and he did, of course, send me those flowers on vday... I got them in the middle of class and felt like a QUEEN!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentines Day is one of my favorite days of the year.  With the sudden declaration of that fact, most single girls look at me like I have just grown a second head and mumble something about it being singles awareness day.  Isn't Valentines Day a day to celebrate romance?  What if you don't HAVE someone to romance?  Then deduction would conclude.. it is merely a day to remember that fact!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, today, February 14 of 2009, I want to blow this theory out of the water.  Valentines Day is a day to celebrate LOVE.  My mom always made this day so special growing up, with a candlelight dinner during the evening, complete with gifts for everyone, and a nice meal and lots of chocolate!  It was a reminder that we were loved.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT, my blogging friends, is what Valentines Day is about, just a reminder that you are loved.  So be thankful today, hug someone you love, eat lots of chocolate, and revel in the fact that above all, GOD is LOVE.  He will love us unconditionally, no matter who may or may not love us on this earth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm going to make a big brunch with all the girls.  Happy Valentines Day!  *muah!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-6124230930368492780?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/6124230930368492780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=6124230930368492780' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/6124230930368492780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/6124230930368492780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day-not-for-single.html' title='Valentines Day... Not for the single?'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-5182650429348051061</id><published>2009-02-08T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:14:59.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding Life in the DMV!</title><content type='html'>I hate the DMV.  When I say 'hate'... I mean HATE.  I heard a statistic the other day which made me squirm in my seat: the average American spends 29 hours in front of the TV PER WEEK!  PEOPLE!  I am completely outraged.  Although I don't spend NEAR that amount in front of this life-sucker, it still makes me want to throw mine out the window. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel that way about the hours I've had to spend in the DMV.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, since I'm on this subject, why is it that EVERY TIME... no matter HOW much of an expert you are at what they do and do not need in order for them to process your request, do you ALWAYS have to come back?  Hence the next several hours of my life recorded as sitting yet again in the Department of Motor Vehicles.  Not exactly the way I am hoping to go down in history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it was God's way of rewarding me for being a good citizen and registering my car in the State of Colorado.  Or maybe it was His way of making the point that He can speak to us anywhere, or maybe it was a good combination of the two.  Whatever the case may be, I was sitting there, reading my pocket-sized Bible I carry in my purse, when this scripture almost jumped off the page:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's far more to this life than trusting in Christ. There's also suffering for him. And the suffering is as much a gift as the trusting." --Phil 1:28 (Message)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting there in a nice warm room, 'suffering' in my padded chair, waiting for my number to be called.  And there was Paul, in jail, telling the church in Phillipi that suffering for Christ was a GIFT.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trusting completely in God is such a beautiful thing.  Giving Him my everything, even in moments which are painful and times when I just don't understand.  But suffering?  Didn't Jesus already do that on the cross so we don't have to suffer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear in our culture, where 'happiness' is equated with 'easiness', we have lost the true art of sacrifice.  Jesus told his disciples in Matthew that if they were to come after Him, they were to deny themselves, take up their crosses and follow after Him.  He fulfilled His calling in life by dying and paving the way to God.  Now it is our turn to sacrifice our lives daily, and follow after Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I strongly believe that the term 'martyr' is not merely reserved for those who are beheaded or lose their physical life for the cause of Christ.  Sometimes I think the harder life is to be faithful, to be obedient.  To be steadily following God, no matter how rough or windy the road may be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a liberating concept.  Merely the fact I can CHOOSE every day to do what He has called me to, not because of some obligation, but because it is a gift.  It is because I am in love with Him.  It is because I want to become just like Jesus.  And as I remain faithful, an inexpressible joy fills me, for as I lose my life, THAT is when it is truly found.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-5182650429348051061?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/5182650429348051061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=5182650429348051061' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5182650429348051061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5182650429348051061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/02/finding-life-in-dmv.html' title='Finding Life in the DMV!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-5723438333122904519</id><published>2009-01-23T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:48:12.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SXn_yVXf3-I/AAAAAAAAADI/uKkf3N9FVzU/s1600-h/Fiesta!.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SXn_yVXf3-I/AAAAAAAAADI/uKkf3N9FVzU/s320/Fiesta!.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294544077144973282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My beautiful friend &lt;a href="http://rocketiam.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tash&lt;/a&gt; tagged me with this... so here we go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explanation - Post the fourth picture on the fourth folder of your pictures and explain! oh yeah, and tag 4 more people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my friends... sometimes I take a breath, step back, and look at my life, overwhelmed.  After going to school together, the 5 of us remained a close knit group of friends.  Upon graduating, each of them moved to a different state, but me... who began working at &lt;a href="messengerintl.org"&gt;Messenger International&lt;/a&gt; as Lisa Bevere's assistant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one, God has moved each of them BACK to Colorado Springs, and we not only live in the same city, we WORK together.  We are so passionate about ministry, and about advancing the Kingdom of God, and we do this... as a team, with one purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2008, most of us turned the monumental 25!  Four of us have summer birthdays, so we celebrated as long and hard as possible.  This picture is at Ashley's party.  After a weekend camping in the mountains, we decided to bring out her fun/sassy side by throwing her a Fiesta... followed by Salsa Dancing in downtown Denver.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We LOVE to enjoy life to the fullest!  I love my friends... both here, and the ones away.  You each add something so unique and special to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok.. this blog is done.  I will now tag &lt;a href="http://www.katietheinkslinger.blogspot.com/"&gt;Katie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://jonathansweet.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jonathan&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://laurasrevolution.blogspot.com/"&gt;Laura&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.leannwest.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leann&lt;/a&gt;!  Do it guys!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-5723438333122904519?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/5723438333122904519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=5723438333122904519' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5723438333122904519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5723438333122904519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/01/tagged.html' title='Tagged!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SXn_yVXf3-I/AAAAAAAAADI/uKkf3N9FVzU/s72-c/Fiesta!.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-2917677444713327084</id><published>2009-01-18T19:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T21:30:57.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mourning Christmas</title><content type='html'>People mourn changing of seasons all the time.  When a son or daughter leaves for college, much sadness is spent because of their departure.  I know more than one tear has been shed the first day of school, marking the end of Summer and the beginning of yet another year of education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are many of the reasons which I feel rationalized in the current mourning I am undertaking for the end of yet another Holiday season.  I had an amazing Christmas this year, and as you can see from previous posts, I am somewhat of a fanatic!  However, why is it that every day in January feels like a Monday, slowly strolling through the bitter cold of each day?  And that brings me to another point: why is it that snow during the Holidays feels so.... MAGICAL.... but when January hits, it's a bitter blast of ice cutting to your core?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me cynical, but I'm just not a fan.  Going through the Charlotte airport yesterdat, I almost tackled the salesman who was blasting 'It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year' from his stereo speakers and scream 'It's NOT the most wonderful time of the year!!!!!!!!!  It's JANUARY!!!!!!!!!!!' and let me tell you what... I did share a few of my thoughts with those around me, as the disdain was somewhat overwhelming.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't help but wonder, perhaps after the fun of the Holidays, January is a month to test our contentment, whatever the circumstances.  Paul found this secret, and perhaps this month I will discover it as well!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-2917677444713327084?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/2917677444713327084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=2917677444713327084' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2917677444713327084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2917677444713327084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/01/mourning-christmas.html' title='Mourning Christmas'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-8679792593153127926</id><published>2009-01-10T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:17:37.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gorgeous...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SWlWujCl_XI/AAAAAAAAADA/fwWtst9bgrw/s1600-h/P1100040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SWlWujCl_XI/AAAAAAAAADA/fwWtst9bgrw/s320/P1100040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289854595003448690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at my view every single day!  I mean, I freeze most of the time... but look how beautiful this is.  Makes me feel like I live in a picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-8679792593153127926?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/8679792593153127926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=8679792593153127926' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/8679792593153127926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/8679792593153127926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/01/gorgeous.html' title='Gorgeous...'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SWlWujCl_XI/AAAAAAAAADA/fwWtst9bgrw/s72-c/P1100040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-3747831335568027128</id><published>2009-01-07T15:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T09:17:04.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to Get the Coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SWYzsYSBjiI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5IPK2hYPVvg/s1600-h/Photo_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SWYzsYSBjiI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5IPK2hYPVvg/s320/Photo_01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288971649918537250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Everybody has a day when they have to get the coffee.  Today’s your day.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The line from a movie I recently watched on the airplane is still running through my head.  In the plot, this young man is working for a political group, and moves to Washington DC to begin his ‘glamorous job.’  He begins his first meeting with his boss by submitting some ideas he has for the group, and after laughing, his superior gives him his first task: to run out and get coffee for everyone.  As I sat there, trying to pass the time on my flight from Washington DC to Denver, I stopped as I heard those words.  There have been many ‘coffee fetching’ moments in my life.  Times when I was the one running around, trying to get the little administrative details finished, times when I truly lived the meaning of laying my life down in service to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as I ponder this more, and look back on my many times of ‘getting coffee’ (literal and otherwise) I think about the motives behind the actions.  In the instance of this young man, he clearly did not fulfill the wishes of his superior because he had a heart to serve him.  On the contrary, it was very obvious he didn’t like the task he was given one bit!  The reason this young man put up with the ‘coffee fetching days’ is because he saw greater days on the horizon.  He was climbing a ladder of success, and this was but one rung he must pass to reach the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.” – Mark 8:34-35 (NIV)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Message Bible sums it up this way:&lt;br /&gt; "Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for? “&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember laying in bed at night as a little girl, dreaming of who I would become.  During the Winter Olympic games, it was always a professional ice skater.  After attending a fun summer camp, it was always one of the members of the cafeteria staff.  Sometimes, it was even a teacher, after I had been profoundly impacted by one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I got older, I began to start catching the heart of God and passion for what HE had called me to do.  I began to pursue those things, and in my mind, had mapped out how my life would go.  When high school graduation day came, I had a rude awakening, for the path I had envisioned did not exactly go as planned.  Instead of a life full of fame and glamour, His voice was urging me towards one of training and service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now 25, and can confidently say the greatest honor I have ever had is the honor of coming alongside someone, and truly serving them.  To lay down your life may seem mundane, difficult, and uncomfortable (and it is all of these at times!) however, the reward far outweighs the cost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is the motive of service to us as as young men and women who want to change the world?  Is it to climb another rung on the proverbial ladder?  Is it to puff ourselves up so the world can reward our service?  Absolutely not.  I know we all have a passion to change the world.  Great!  Instead of striving to be in the limelight, find someone you can serve.  From the oldest to the youngest, EVERYONE has someone they can lay their life down for.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you today to take some time.  Think about your life.  Who has God called you to serve?  What are you doing to make your mark on your world?  The greatest tasks in life are the ones unseen – do not despise what God is calling you, no matter how big or how small.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-3747831335568027128?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/3747831335568027128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=3747831335568027128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/3747831335568027128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/3747831335568027128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2009/01/time-to-get-coffee.html' title='Time to Get the Coffee'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SWYzsYSBjiI/AAAAAAAAAC4/5IPK2hYPVvg/s72-c/Photo_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-8814345555536744634</id><published>2008-12-31T11:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T11:21:37.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bending... Breaking... and Stretching the Rules!</title><content type='html'>Today I did one of my favorite things… I tested the rules.  I like the term ‘tested’ much more than ‘stretched’ or even ‘broke’ because it makes the alleged rule breaking much less serious sounding!  Loosely living by the motto ‘All rules are made to be broken’ I often test different systems, wondering the real reason for their existence.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the Christmas holiday, my bags seem to expand and gain weight far more than my physical body does.  Perhaps that’s a blessing – it takes all the extra caloric intake and stuffs it inside the walls of my suitcase instead of my inner thighs.  However, I always have issues with bringing stuff BACK after a Holiday in Idaho!  Having an extremely early flight this morning, I spent my last evening in Potato Land rolling, cramming, stuffing… ANYTHING to try to make everything fit in my carry-on.  Because of the rise in gas prices (and yes, this has stayed in effect even now as they have fallen), the airlines charge for each suitcase checked.  I was determined not to have to pay the $15 it took to check a bag… or a box… or anything else for that matter.  The only problem is that I ended up with a VERY pregnant carry-on roll bag, laptop case, purse, nice pea coat (which I planned on wearing), huge snowboarding coat, and a few misc items like 2 huge hardback coffee table books, a bible, and a large mug.  Watching me struggle, my mom kindly offered to pay the stupid fee but… no.  This had become more than a way to save a few bucks.  It had become a challenge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning with a HUGE birthday bag (big enough to fit a small child) outside my door.  My mom had the brilliant plan for me to put my coat, laptop bag, purse, and misc items all together, thus only bringing on the allocated 2 items (one roller bag… and a ‘small personal item’… hmmmm…).  After successfully fitting everything in these 2 ‘items’ I began to laugh, as the birthday bag far exceeded the roller bag both in size and in weight.  Furthermore, my hopes to be inconspicuous and sneak this on the airplane flew out the window, for the bag was covered from top to bottom with brightly colored hippopotamuses covered in birthday hats, blowing party poppers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit nervous walking through the airport, but other than the security guard asking me if I was MOVING somewhere (my response was to nervously laugh and quickly say ‘no!’), it seemed to  be working just fine.  Maybe I WAS inconspicuous.  An amazon girl, wearing a bright pink coat with a roller suitcase and birthday bag big enough to fit a real baby hippo in perhaps wasn’t as bad as I thought.  Then I noticed everyone in the gate whispering and staring.  My face began to heat as I imagined what they were saying ‘look at all that stuff… why did we have to check the bag??’  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the gate agent explained the rules to us before boarding (one SMALL personal item and a roller bag) I pretended like I didn’t hear.  However, as they called us to board, I took out my boarding pass and my heart fell as I realized… I didn’t have a seat assignment!  Looking like a poor puppy who is about to get caught for something horrible, I treaded (with my giant hippo bag and carry on in tow!) to the counter… expecting to get a major rebuke.  However, a rebuke didn’t come… instead, the woman smiled at me and said ‘wow… you’re tall!  Today’s your lucky day!”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking my ‘lucky day’ included an exit row seat, which made me ecstatic with excitement, I looked at the ticket… first class.  I ran on the plane as quickly as possible, piling all my stuff around my feet, covering it up with a blanket, and sighed with relief – I had made it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is… The bag didn’t break open and contents didn’t spill out of our fearless friend Hippo until AFTER I was already on the tram headed to the main terminal.  The bad news is… I had to walk holding him together while still rolling the pull bag, looking much like a very tall old woman bent over because of a torn lower back muscle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely fulfilled the challenge and broke a few rules in the process.  However, next time, to save the wear and tear on my muscles and nerves, maybe I’ll just pay the $15.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-8814345555536744634?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/8814345555536744634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=8814345555536744634' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/8814345555536744634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/8814345555536744634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/12/bending-breaking-and-stretching-rules.html' title='Bending... Breaking... and Stretching the Rules!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-5609711569230997710</id><published>2008-12-20T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T11:55:37.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Miracle of Christmas... true Scrooge Conversions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SU1D6xrWSRI/AAAAAAAAACw/VxbJ2G2aBq4/s1600-h/Me+and+Kaatje.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SU1D6xrWSRI/AAAAAAAAACw/VxbJ2G2aBq4/s320/Me+and+Kaatje.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281952615022086418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life just doesn't get any better than this.  I'm sitting here, watching Elf, the snow is blowing in like mad outside, the Christmas tree is lit, the coffee is warm, my family and friends are close by, and the big breakfast dad is slaving over is wafting from the kitchen.  But I have enough blogs about my passion for all things Christmasey.  No, the point of this post is not to highlight me and Christmas's love affair.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is to honor a friend of mine - a 'converted Scrooge' of sorts - who is trying desperately to neglect her former ways and embrace the spirit of the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I noticed was the Christmas ornaments decorating her &lt;a href="www.katietheinkslinger.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;. Then, as she catapulted herself at me this morning, my eyes caught her Christmas sweater.  Yes, Christmas.  There was the seat by the fire she chose, which also happened to be almost hugging the Christmas tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now convinced, even the biggest Christmas scrooge can have a true conversion.  You just have to add enough snow, Christmas cheer, and singing loud for all to hear.  Kaatje... my hat goes off to you (even though it IS the coolest pinkest snow hat in all the world).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-5609711569230997710?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/5609711569230997710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=5609711569230997710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5609711569230997710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5609711569230997710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/12/miracle-of-christmas-and-scrooge.html' title='The Miracle of Christmas... true Scrooge Conversions'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SU1D6xrWSRI/AAAAAAAAACw/VxbJ2G2aBq4/s72-c/Me+and+Kaatje.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-2709316608094912624</id><published>2008-12-18T08:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T11:03:16.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Traditions!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SUqeXOHFq0I/AAAAAAAAACo/eHC1hlNydbc/s1600-h/PB270700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SUqeXOHFq0I/AAAAAAAAACo/eHC1hlNydbc/s320/PB270700.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281207634807335746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am part of a family who LOVES Christmas.  After the traditional weekend-after-Thanksgiving decorating, I walked around my house in awe, and counted 6 Christmas trees (and rumor has it, my mom has buckled and added a seventh ‘Music Tree’ in her bedroom!).  I used to think all our traditions and celebrations were  normal…. That is, until I expressed details to my co-workers recently.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HATE commercial Christmas, even though I find myself going to the Christmas-music-only radio stations, singing ‘Rudolf’ just as loud as the next guy.  This year I have actually tried to make most of my gifts… starting in October enables more thought into each one (not to mention the discovery of a buried sewing ability!!).  The traditions my family embraces are for the sole purpose of celebration, of taking time once a year to grow closer in our relationships with each other, and mostly, to celebrate, with unhindered passion, the reason we are alive – to adore Jesus, who came for each of us personally and sacrificed everything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, blogging world, I am going to share with you just a few of our traditions, starting with the day after Thanksgiving (because of course that’s when the Christmas season officially starts!) in hopes you will adapt, or maybe just smile and appreciate, a few of the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The night of Thanksgiving, we watch the cheesy family Christmas movie ‘All I Want for Christmas” as a teaser for the next days’ activities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The morning of that ‘black Friday’ we wake up super early to join the other million crazy people in the mall taking advantage of ‘door busters’ and free things…REALLY valuable items like mini-Mickey Mouse snow globes… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. After taking a nap to make up for the lost sleep the night before, we blare Christmas music, drink peppermint mochas, and help my dad prepare for the evening – his famous TURKEY SOUP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. We have people over to eat the turkey yumminess, bundle up and…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Go to ‘Christmas in the Nighttime Sky’ the charity event our small town puts on which celebrates the first day of the Christmas season with fireworks choreographed to Christmas music, famous Idaho baked potatoes, a HUGE bonfire, and hot chocolate stands.  The cost of admission is one unwrapped toy, donated to these kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Tons of Christmas baking (our last name isn’t SWEET for nothing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Christmas caroling to neighbors – with plates of goodies as love offerings &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Intensive searches for new, fun Christmas music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Starting on December 13, we begin the ’12 days of Christmas’ with a needy family, or simply a family we want to reach out to.  Each day, we anonymously leave a gift on their front doorstep with a poem.  (‘on the first day of Christmas… etc…).  On Christmas Eve, we show up on their front door, sing to them, and present them with the big final gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. ZILLIONS of Christmas productions (this used to be worse when we were little)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Christmas Eve is taco soup night (with my dad being the ultimate chef).  Christmas eve service is followed by lots of laughter and fun with friends around the candle-lit table, Kenny G serenading us in the background with his Holiday album (if you haven’t heard it, you NEED to… it’s amazing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. While my parents pull together last-minute things, and my dad begins the cooking frenzy, me and the brothers cuddle up by the tree and put on ‘Preacher’s Wife”… our Christmas eve traditional movie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. After “Preacher’s Wife” we fall asleep under/by the Christmas tree, where we wait all night for Santa to come… (Jeff usually ends up on the couch… SHOCKER!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. The next morning, we have a strict 7am rule with the parentals.  Before then, we can wake up and open our stockings, which usually includes small items from the dollar store, and cards from our grandparents and uncles and aunts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Right at 7, we jump on our parents, excited for Christmas morning!  It usually takes several minutes, but they eventually roll out of bed, start the coffee, then… it’s present time!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. We open gifts slowly, really relishing the moment.  One at a time, taking turns… making it last as long as possible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. After presents and clean up, my dad immediately heads to the kitchen (do I see a pattern here???) to finish up breakfast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. We eat a huge and yummy breakfast, then spend the rest of the day eating, laughing, playing games, sleeping, and watching movies.  If it’s snowing (which I’m earnestly hoping/praying for THIS year!) we make snowmen or go sledding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you have enjoyed our Christmas traditions.  I know most sound quite childish, but they really are great, and provide stable moments in our year.  I always have a good case of nostalgia, which makes me excited for the years to come… when we add spouses and eventually kids to the mix.  How great is it to be part of FAMILY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-2709316608094912624?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/2709316608094912624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=2709316608094912624' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2709316608094912624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2709316608094912624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/12/traditions.html' title='Traditions!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SUqeXOHFq0I/AAAAAAAAACo/eHC1hlNydbc/s72-c/PB270700.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-7348165990292698476</id><published>2008-12-11T15:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:27:01.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Christmas...........</title><content type='html'>Right now my heart is thumping faster than my fingers can fly across the keys.  It may have something to do with the fact I’m OBSESSED with ‘Christmas in a Cup’ (peppermint white mochas) and have more than my share of caffeine every day, or perhaps it’s just making my issues worse.  The problem?  The fact I’m in love with Christmas – yet why is there SO MUCH TO DO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my mind, this truly is the most wonderful time of the year.  I enjoy everything about it!  Shopping, crowds, caroling, peppermint, family… the list could go on and on!  However, in this moment I want to stop, take a breath, and focus on ENJOYING the actual season, instead of making the wonder a theoretical idea or something merely witnessed in movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was home in Idaho for Thanksgiving, I enjoyed the days AFTER this holiday the best, for the celebrations of Christmas had finally begun!  During that period of time, I was rushing through the mall in order to meet my mom, and saw an old woman in the lobby of a store, completely enamored by a snow globe.  Then I began to think… when was the last time I really stopped to watch the ‘snow’ fall through the glass?  Reaching center court, I then saw a very young boy, probably about 2 years old, standing under a snow machine holding out his hand, hoping to catch the pieces of small ‘snow,’ completely caught up in that moment, forgetting anything else in the world existed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, enjoying the IDEA of Christmas, but more aware of the knots in my shoulders than the actual joy of a cup of peppermint hot chocolate, soft blanket, and doing nothing but watching the fire crackle.  As I rush down the streets, I try and sing the Christmas carols, but fear I am chasing something I end up running right past.  The fact is, I wouldn’t even be where I am today if the miracle of Christmas had not taken place.  It is the foundation for all I am, for all I believe in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s something about the beginning of life and the end of life which so inspires me.  The look of that little boy, and the expression on the face of that old woman tells me they realize something I don’t – that sometimes  the most important thing we can do is to take a deep breath to stop and watch the snow fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-7348165990292698476?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/7348165990292698476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=7348165990292698476' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/7348165990292698476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/7348165990292698476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-christmas.html' title='Oh Christmas...........'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-2063784285433911571</id><published>2008-10-12T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T09:51:34.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art of a Letter...</title><content type='html'>My grandmother is a letter QUEEN.  Even at almost 89, she still sits and writes letters to family and friends almost every day!  You know the kind: envelope, stamp... handwriting.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear this is a lost art in my generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong.  Some days, I check my Email before my feet hit the floor.  My text message notification sound makes me SO happy... and I rush to grab my phone to see what the digital message may say.  I use the internet to share pictures, stories, even videos at the click of a button.  But sometimes I wonder if all this GREAT stuff is replacing something truly personal and wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing like going to the mailbox, sifting through the advertisements and bills, to see your name written in REAL handwriting in a card-sized envelope.  It's almost like holding a piece of the sender... for they took time, sat down, and wrote their thoughts and feelings, all the while with your face in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have done my best to keep up with the writings of my grandmother.  I try and reply to all her questions in similar manner.  However, as the busyness of life takes over, I find myself sitting down and starting the letter with 'Dear Grandma K, thank you for your letter.  However, I was just wondering... WHY DON'T YOU HAVE EMAIL AGAIN??'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I stop, ponder the simple life she lives, and wonder if all my technology is really 'better' after all.  It certainly is FASTER, but should we sacrifice the art of personalization for speed?  I want to make it my goal to be intentional about connecting with people in more personal ways.  At the end of the day, relationships are what we all treasure most.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to dust off my stationary, sit down, and write Grandma K a letter.  Perhaps in a week or so, I just may find a reply hidden in my mailbox.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-2063784285433911571?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/2063784285433911571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=2063784285433911571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2063784285433911571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/2063784285433911571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/10/art-of-letter.html' title='The Art of a Letter...'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-163397923285959663</id><published>2008-10-06T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T10:08:16.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NOT 'Just Another Conference'</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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&lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of the most intense weekends of my life just passed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Being the second time at the Joyce Meyer Women’s Conference, I should have bee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;n &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;prepared for a few days of intense worship, amazing teaching, early mornings, late nights, crazy booktable… but as much as I MENTALLY prepare for something, my body just doesn’t adjus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;t somet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;imes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On Saturday morning, however, my heart was enlarged, and my life was changed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Watching Lisa get up and speak to 17,000 women (in the Rams football stadium!), observing the look in their eyes, watched their faces show the heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ange t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;hey were expe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;riencing… I suddenly remembered why I do what I do.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So often, I take for granted the amazing opportunity and privilege I have to serve such an amazing ministry.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Watch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ing the tear-stained faces of all those women, gathered together, did something miraculous in MY heart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt it enlarge.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I no longer am content living life as I have.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to do mo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;re – be more efficient.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Be more effective.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Live and love more than I am even now or thought possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;God is so amazing – even when we least expect it, H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;will come an&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;d change our outlook on life in an instant.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He can do more in a split second tha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;n we can do in years and years on our own.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So thank you – to everyone who lays down their life every day for Him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You don’t have to be in full time ministry… you can be a stay at h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ome mom.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or a businessman.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or someone in the secular workplace.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But today my prayer for y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;u is your heart would also be enlarged for the people in YOUR sphere of influence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In closing, here are some of the pic highlights fr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;om the weekend:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;BEFORE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpCS2iS9UI/AAAAAAAAABo/EpOFTfAsyCE/s1600-h/Picture+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpCS2iS9UI/AAAAAAAAABo/EpOFTfAsyCE/s320/Picture+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254084806925546818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;AFTER:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpCfo3c5eI/AAAAAAAAABw/j8hJwH2STkc/s1600-h/Picture+102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpCfo3c5eI/AAAAAAAAABw/j8hJwH2STkc/s320/Picture+102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254085026594481634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Phil Wickam!  His table was right across from us:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpE3ZHPCCI/AAAAAAAAACg/e_qL_xNHSHg/s1600-h/Picture+093.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpE3ZHPCCI/AAAAAAAAACg/e_qL_xNHSHg/s320/Picture+093.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254087633705830434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is what lack of sleep will do to ya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpEkdtm8aI/AAAAAAAAACY/wohsoDFBYGY/s1600-h/Picture+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpEkdtm8aI/AAAAAAAAACY/wohsoDFBYGY/s320/Picture+107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254087308523008418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Darlene Zschech's worship is nothing that can be put into words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpBzcjokqI/AAAAAAAAABg/fJcR9BB5no0/s1600-h/Picture+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpBzcjokqI/AAAAAAAAABg/fJcR9BB5no0/s320/Picture+071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254084267375891106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lisa speaking... I can't tell you how powerful this moment was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpDK3ENXRI/AAAAAAAAACI/N2TJETcePM4/s1600-h/Photo_10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpDK3ENXRI/AAAAAAAAACI/N2TJETcePM4/s320/Photo_10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254085769140460818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-163397923285959663?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/163397923285959663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=163397923285959663' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/163397923285959663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/163397923285959663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/10/not-just-another-conference.html' title='NOT &apos;Just Another Conference&apos;'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SOpCS2iS9UI/AAAAAAAAABo/EpOFTfAsyCE/s72-c/Picture+076.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-5485299261949654241</id><published>2008-09-28T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T13:47:37.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trophy Wife... (more trophy, less wife)</title><content type='html'>I've been dealing with this horrible cough for the past 3 weeks or so.  You know the kind... the one which flares at exactly the wrong moments: during emotional prayer times, important phone calls, heart-to-hearts with friends.  I'm not one to get sick often, so it's been pretty irritating for me to deal with!  So, in hopes of shaking it quickly, I went with my roomie one night to the gym with the sole purpose of sitting in the sauna.  I had tried everything else... I thought perhaps sweating it out of my lungs would work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the side effects of this horrible sickness is lack of energy.  So, a simple walk out of the house and into the steamy sauna was enough to make me collapse on the floor.  My long frame, laying there fully clothed, like a limp rag doll must have been some sight.  A few minutes later, through the foggy steam, a man came in and, through the haze, worriedly asked if I was ok.  I assured him I was, I just liked my mouth being close to the steam... I needed some major zap to my lungs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We began chatting about superficial things, and the more we talked, the more uncomfortable I became.  He told of his upcoming travels to Austria and Russia, and when I asked him the nature of his visit, his simple reply was 'uhhh... it's complicated.'  Now THAT caught my attention.  Was he a real-life version of Jason Bourne?  A member of the FBI, traveling all around the world ensuring the safety of this country?  Thankfully, we were not alone in the room, but regardless, I wanted out.  So, at my first opportunity, I made my escape to the women's locker room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the decision then and there to go into the dry sauna, simply to get away from this man. Unbeknownced to me, however, he had gone into the pool, awaiting my arrival back into the area in hopes to continue our conversation.  As I closed the dry sauna door, I breathed a sigh of relief to finally be alone, able to relax.  That relief was soon short-lived, for I then watched him, through the glass in the door,  enter out of the pool, and follow me into the room!  As he walked in, he immediately started to pour out his life story, the wife of 25 years leaving him, his desire for a 'good Christian girl' to enter his life and fill an impending void, his experiences with others he had dated... almost like I was the interview-ee, and him the interviewer... but the problem was, there was NO WAY I wanted the position!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, came the real reason for his trip overseas: speed dating.  It followed the format as we are familiar with, but the difference is... after the 30 seconds of convo, he would choose his bride.  His house was large, he informed me, so there was plenty of room for the ones with kids, those who usually were left behind.  Through all these words, there was always an underlying hint that I may be able to be the 'good Christian girl' who would be able to save him the time and effort of a long ride on an airplane... and I could be the lucky one to move into his large house and make him happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all sounded very much like an episode of 'Dr. Phil.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, before he had a chance to officially get on one knee, I was relieved to see my roommate through the plated glass, and I hurried out to meet her.  With a quick goodbye and goodluck to the man, and a panicked look at Hannah, I pretty much ran out of the pool room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: even bad coughs are not worth trips into the sauna.  Next time, I'll wear my fake wedding ring and act like I speak another language.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-5485299261949654241?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/5485299261949654241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=5485299261949654241' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5485299261949654241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5485299261949654241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/09/sauna-adventures.html' title='The Trophy Wife... (more trophy, less wife)'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-5056474995662811247</id><published>2008-09-24T21:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T12:14:41.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Feel of Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love living in a state where the seasons change.  Not being a huge fan of cold, I enjoy the Colorado summer heat (it only lasts a few months out of the year!) and try and soak in as much as possible during this short time, hoping it will get me through the long and cold months which are soon to blow in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, this year I've decided to embrace the cold and welcome the change.  Instead of being so focused on WHERE I'm going while driving down the road, I've made a conscious effort to watch the leaves change around me.  Instead of being bitter that I can no longer go outside in tank tops, I've chosen to embrace the sweaters and boots.  After the busyness of summer dies down, a warm cup of coffee, a fuzzy blanket, and amazing friends will follow.  And you know what will follow THAT?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving.  Then Christmas.  The BEST time of the year.  OOOOO I love the holidays!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess the cold isn't half bad.  I'll just put on a sweater, go for a walk, and enjoy the feeling of the cool air caressing my cheeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-5056474995662811247?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/5056474995662811247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=5056474995662811247' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5056474995662811247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/5056474995662811247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/09/feel-of-fall.html' title='The Feel of Fall'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458497200356842294.post-1565114376589304517</id><published>2008-09-22T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T11:44:55.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Excited to blog!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;"  &gt;For the past few months, I've tried my hand at blogging on myspace.  Because this social networking site was not designed solely for this task, I soon lost interest and fell short of my 3-times-a-week goal. However, my good friend &lt;a href="http://carlybarron.blogspot.com/"&gt;Carly Barron&lt;/a&gt; inspired me to start a 'real' blog... so here I am!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I look forward to beginning this blogging journey.  I enjoy the art of journaling, and think this may be a good avenue for me to post my thoughts, even if I'm the only one who sees them!  I enjoy to travel, and do it quite frequently, so I will write of my journeys, and post as many pictures as I can (once I figure out how to do so!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I also very much enjoy READING other peoples blogs... so please, if you are contemplating beginning such a venture, please do not delay!  Let's start on this journey together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/458497200356842294-1565114376589304517?l=jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/feeds/1565114376589304517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=458497200356842294&amp;postID=1565114376589304517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/1565114376589304517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/458497200356842294/posts/default/1565114376589304517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jacquelinekarene.blogspot.com/2008/09/excited-to-blog.html' title='Excited to blog!'/><author><name>jacquesweet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02054464128649297039</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq68KQ-XptM/SNuleYKRRUI/AAAAAAAAABE/uecmKpbchNE/S220/jacque_sweet_square.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
