tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32591829324318089712024-03-14T04:58:21.518-06:00The Nicole ShowCall me narcissist if you must but this blog is all about ME. I have another blog about my kids, whom I love and adore writing about. But I was Nicole a long time before I was mom and I don't intend to give up being Nicole overnight. <br><br>
p.s.<br>
You can read all about my kids at <a href="http://naptimeoptional.blogspot.com">Naptime Optional</a>.<br>
Or you can follow along on our Arizona adventure on my <a href="http://sweatinandclickin.blogspot.com/"> 365 project blog</a>.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.comBlogger279125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-37511472976474605452013-10-21T11:37:00.001-06:002013-10-21T11:37:52.448-06:00Name that Movie MondayI've decided it's time to bring back this popular game here on this little ol' blog of mine. For those of you new around here this is <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/search/label/%22Name%20that%20Movie%20Monday%22">Name that Movie Monday</a>! It's a game started here just over <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/search/label/%22Name%20that%20Movie%20Monday%22?updated-max=2008-09-29T10:04:00-06:00&max-results=20&start=40&by-date=false">5 years ago</a>! Wow! 5 years ago my <a href="http://naptimeoptional.blogspot.com/2008/10/smile-pretty-for-camera.html">youngest child was 1 year old, my daughter wasn't talking yet and my oldest wasn't even in kindergarten yet</a>. What a <a href="http://naptimeoptional.blogspot.com/2013/10/growing.html">difference</a> 5 years will make!<br />
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Anyway, it's an easy game. I give you a line from a movie and you try and guess which movie it's from. That's it! Mostly because I like to watch movies and because most script writers and brilliant at what they do.<br />
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Ready for today's quote?<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Everything will be all right in the end. And if it's not alright then trust me, it's not yet the end.</blockquote>
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Apparently this quote is floating around a lot, being attributed to many different sources, but I first heard it in a movie so for today I'm attributing the movie as the source. Do you know the movie??<br />
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Okay I'll give you one more line if you need another hint.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I have a dream, a most brilaint one. To outsource old age! And it is not just for the British, there are many other countries where they don't like old people too!</blockquote>
There you go! Your turn. Name that movie!Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-90033373474622229022013-10-17T20:52:00.001-06:002013-10-17T20:52:11.257-06:00Odds AreThis song has been on auto repeat around here these days.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7Sw9Fh6uk4Q" width="420"></iframe><br />
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See, I live in a constant state of "waiting for the other shoe to drop." I wouldn't say I'm a pessimist. I don't exactly go around expecting bad stuff to happen. But I do live in a state of realizing bad things often happen to good people because I've watched it happen more times then I can count. And although I've had my ups and downs in life I have to admit that all things considered I've had a pretty darn good life. So I guess I'm constantly aware that my "luck" may run out at any time<br />
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I think this is why this song really struck a chord with me the very first time I heard it, because it gave me permission to stop worrying about what may happen someday. Because, odds are it's gonna be alright.<br />
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Not to get too morbid or anything but I heard once the statistic that one in four will get cancer at some point in their life. Which sounds awful. Except that it means that 3 people DIDN'T get cancer. So really the odds are that I WON'T. Right?'<br />
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Plus the music video totally cracks me up! (But maybe that's just because of my background in broadcast journalism.)<br />
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My very VERY favorite part, though, is that the song lyrics say "but somewhere in the world someone is gonna fall in love by the end of this song" and so I like to imagine that every single time I listen to it somebody <i>actually</i> falls in love, and that the more I listen the more people will fall in love! You know, like how every time a bell rings an angel get its wings......it makes me feel happy to think that I'm helping fill the world with love.<br />
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<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-15325799963831972272013-10-14T14:28:00.000-06:002013-10-14T14:28:11.983-06:00ScroogedIs there a word for somebody who is a Halloween bah-humbug? Because if there isn't we should create one. Because I think I may be one and I need to know what to call myself.<br />
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I'm not exactly a scrooge. I don't HATE Halloween. I've spent many hours creating matching costumes for my kiddos.<br />
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Like the year they were characters from <a href="http://www.seussville.com/books/book_detail.php">The Cat in the Hat.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCc5QpT1w2a79GuIkGwK1QvC-0zLoI4XDzzgaZq7IpvJ9-rSca1qHQpWadn6f-XDlbh0PL2PhXBvfvJE8TILEZd6rLKKBZzi5hpEbZ8UGCmxKJghU4XXvVMTCkkMQSiPF8xVSNjViHTyUs/s1600/IMG_7052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCc5QpT1w2a79GuIkGwK1QvC-0zLoI4XDzzgaZq7IpvJ9-rSca1qHQpWadn6f-XDlbh0PL2PhXBvfvJE8TILEZd6rLKKBZzi5hpEbZ8UGCmxKJghU4XXvVMTCkkMQSiPF8xVSNjViHTyUs/s400/IMG_7052.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Or the year I laboriously recreated characters from <a href="http://movies.disney.com/monsters-inc">Monsters, Inc. </a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZaPnR-oIZllxGGGJwKWWYLNb_7zuRN1O1abT_BZRZbZWUg7rvBQY-xc2MPKpIFq8JmXe_Y-cm6oANHebu_qY4bCMvRfduQkMztrGUpdaKxKD1MWPY6cNZVwgIOAZ_3Eb8cK_JIN9F6nf/s1600/IMG_0687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZaPnR-oIZllxGGGJwKWWYLNb_7zuRN1O1abT_BZRZbZWUg7rvBQY-xc2MPKpIFq8JmXe_Y-cm6oANHebu_qY4bCMvRfduQkMztrGUpdaKxKD1MWPY6cNZVwgIOAZ_3Eb8cK_JIN9F6nf/s400/IMG_0687.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Or last year when my oldest son was OBSESSED with the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/bookseries/B00CJGABSY/ref=sr_1_1_acs_b_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1381781516&sr=8-1-acs">How to Train your Dragon</a> book series and so I crafted Viking costumes for the older 2 and the youngest was transformed into a dragon.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJ7qLMSVdqE7GRjXsoShCwUB8AC8b5mA0SSqgK9BPLy6MTVYNIPPlJoSd0QVydGlLkpe7DW7nNtC1yaYLuvYAYh_YSjt83S6UJHhp0G2Ark7lmlGEQc_4H4O2J-wmF7_ZTBTWXOW14rDQ/s1600/IMG_1856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJ7qLMSVdqE7GRjXsoShCwUB8AC8b5mA0SSqgK9BPLy6MTVYNIPPlJoSd0QVydGlLkpe7DW7nNtC1yaYLuvYAYh_YSjt83S6UJHhp0G2Ark7lmlGEQc_4H4O2J-wmF7_ZTBTWXOW14rDQ/s400/IMG_1856.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I even dressed up last year, as Smarty Pants!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDJWtIoZVI4jOqfxn57P_l2k-noS18PgWoRPphg9QusaXij_-DRzqZ3A6ksBLoxrUNP5iZ7s-xjF9-PwvJTNNYRaXrxZMV8Hj_-yZ1vKqhHNWlbZ-A0qKJSwLEbCcVcFhtzPrJz5jYOYh/s1600/IMG_6733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDJWtIoZVI4jOqfxn57P_l2k-noS18PgWoRPphg9QusaXij_-DRzqZ3A6ksBLoxrUNP5iZ7s-xjF9-PwvJTNNYRaXrxZMV8Hj_-yZ1vKqhHNWlbZ-A0qKJSwLEbCcVcFhtzPrJz5jYOYh/s400/IMG_6733.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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So I don't hate Halloween entirely. I just don't love everything about it. Like this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdeYNELHWiG_fMgLOs8AC5nSBThz4fsobp00U2DjCaDmLA8TXNCrpCwgCctzFKQOTarWIg7n93VUWQs4nL-9nQgNPhvsykYo7GWTbYwAXmohwF8aHVEnlDrpw1scZliDSi2T9VO1tVzjVU/s1600/2013-10-14+12.00.44+HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdeYNELHWiG_fMgLOs8AC5nSBThz4fsobp00U2DjCaDmLA8TXNCrpCwgCctzFKQOTarWIg7n93VUWQs4nL-9nQgNPhvsykYo7GWTbYwAXmohwF8aHVEnlDrpw1scZliDSi2T9VO1tVzjVU/s400/2013-10-14+12.00.44+HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNldBZTVfjzR9W4T4Vi9NM8pyfywIgw6SXpAacAhhJRAa02QraXE113zAHEvbKao9NRAyJwvAlcq3yayccj1p-7SPmo7VQMwkG4XRyb0zUuzItedVA3OGk5lWyKhR9Ra-6Fg9PcBnwQ1Zy/s1600/2013-10-14+12.00.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNldBZTVfjzR9W4T4Vi9NM8pyfywIgw6SXpAacAhhJRAa02QraXE113zAHEvbKao9NRAyJwvAlcq3yayccj1p-7SPmo7VQMwkG4XRyb0zUuzItedVA3OGk5lWyKhR9Ra-6Fg9PcBnwQ1Zy/s400/2013-10-14+12.00.53.jpg" width="300" /></a>I hate getting "Boo-ed". Yes. There. I said it. Every year somebody in the neighborhood starts the cycle of anonymously putting a treat on a doorstep. Once you receive such a drop off you're supposed to display the sign on your door so that you don't get "hit" again and then take treats out to 2 different neighbors within 2 days.<br />
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The kids LOVE it! They notice the signs going up around the neighborhood and start to speculate about when it will be our turn as well as who they want to "boo" in return.<br />
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But I dread it! This year I considered just putting a sign up on my door so that anybody temped to leave us a treat would instead pass us by but I knew my kids would be devastated.<br />
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And so, like every year before, we've been "boo-ed" and I am now tasked with getting to the store to get treats, (did I mention we only have 1 car so getting to the store is more work then it sounds) spending money I don't really want to spend and then taking my kids around to drop the "joy" on somebody else's doorstep. To me it's a huge hassle that I'd rather avoid.<br />
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The things we do because we love our kids and because we want to appear to be good neighbors.<br />
<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-3756741267739437672013-10-11T08:57:00.000-06:002013-10-11T08:57:03.700-06:00What do you want to remember?<div style="text-align: center;">
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">written during one of our wild writing sessions at the Opening the Creative Channel Retreat</span></i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kbxOSwJi2FLx42QS6Jf3wzZ9UCCNuwnzBBYO4fl8IY9hPRsOf2PRFOpTNM-z8F93J_Eh4zUF2MmBlgsN6EAKYCwYXNNJzMuU-yMqNvvxVCS1AWVzBftkWCx4Twm7umU5lYcYTV0PNiy6/s1600/creative+retreat-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kbxOSwJi2FLx42QS6Jf3wzZ9UCCNuwnzBBYO4fl8IY9hPRsOf2PRFOpTNM-z8F93J_Eh4zUF2MmBlgsN6EAKYCwYXNNJzMuU-yMqNvvxVCS1AWVzBftkWCx4Twm7umU5lYcYTV0PNiy6/s400/creative+retreat-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me with the lovely Andrea Scher</td></tr>
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When I go home tomorrow and my husband and children meet me at the airport and ask me how it was, what do I want to remember? What will I tell them?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUivSVQPQeUOQjWYjWxT6McCZIF3-pJSnHXtNCxY0DD_z7Kvw4cGhU8RxstjA8b0OHQhRCAkEKhfs7WixmZB3cEa0Mzxq9BcDvePMv9gkAK0wV_UuMiSLJ8J2nC8fx29pqBEvcvOl_xOop/s1600/creative+retreat-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUivSVQPQeUOQjWYjWxT6McCZIF3-pJSnHXtNCxY0DD_z7Kvw4cGhU8RxstjA8b0OHQhRCAkEKhfs7WixmZB3cEa0Mzxq9BcDvePMv9gkAK0wV_UuMiSLJ8J2nC8fx29pqBEvcvOl_xOop/s400/creative+retreat-3.jpg" width="400" /></a>When I go back to the mundane of homework and lunches and book orders and school fund raisers what do I want to remember? What will pull me from my sadness and loneliness in that moment? What will I cherish from this weekend? What do I want to remember?<br />
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I want to remember that I was terrified but I showed up anyway.<br />
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I want to remember that I had no idea how I was going to pay for the airfare or hotel or car but that I showed up anyway.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWt2IkF_aGDN3vDX0FLey15Nf1jgCSLoBI_GnqUFR0tar68jnd0TIK-96ZuYYFfbTPi5oQ_cvBFp04orGd44dAGa-t1_uFPlCS_VJOBDm1h7R0I-q6imucbvANRX5mjPvnHUDyfESvUiEg/s1600/creative+retreat-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWt2IkF_aGDN3vDX0FLey15Nf1jgCSLoBI_GnqUFR0tar68jnd0TIK-96ZuYYFfbTPi5oQ_cvBFp04orGd44dAGa-t1_uFPlCS_VJOBDm1h7R0I-q6imucbvANRX5mjPvnHUDyfESvUiEg/s400/creative+retreat-5.jpg" width="400" /></a>I want to remember that I cried when I would've preferred to laugh. But I showed up anyway. I painted when I would've preferred to be taking pictures but I showed up anyway.<br />
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And because I showed up somebody tapped me on the shoulder and said, "thank you for your story."<br />
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And because I showed up somebody else hugged me and said, "I've been there."<br />
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And because I showed up I ate delicious food that I didn't have to prepare.<br />
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And because I showed up I felt alive and connected and scared and joyful and broken all at the same time. That's what I want to remember. That so much of all of this is about showing up. That sometimes, just sometimes, magic happens and wouldn't it be sad to miss out on that because I didn't feel like showing up?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqUs0NuGMOEgIlmAg6WTzRyKdb38lqBCbZnbKqkJzAxBEI1rrZwc7AU5bvTtiSAzt4meixJwkUZ70Z-J29uSq2K8XtMDtNNbDTA9MeFtIa138469OwUm2P60wiEtxlZm8kM-sjkOO5mx7/s1600/creative+retreat-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqUs0NuGMOEgIlmAg6WTzRyKdb38lqBCbZnbKqkJzAxBEI1rrZwc7AU5bvTtiSAzt4meixJwkUZ70Z-J29uSq2K8XtMDtNNbDTA9MeFtIa138469OwUm2P60wiEtxlZm8kM-sjkOO5mx7/s400/creative+retreat-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
What do you want to remember? What will I take with me? What will stay in my heart as a treasure to call upon in times of hardship or sorrow? I want to remember Laurie's beautiful home and how Andria bought a buddha and how we ate at the taco stand even though Andria was terrified.<br />
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I want to remember the lovely faces, the genuine smiles, the stories that brought each of us here at this very moment in time. I want to remember how I felt each day as I walked away from 27 Powers Ct, a little more introspective, a little wiser, a littler calmer.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckarEt2Yzr3tY3oFSGXQnzoAtNhXosyJPEs1Y7dcoOYkgI3ZlvuDWhXsOHH1o9ydu4v5QdLDE6cWUD1FYxZRK-3W9FdmKsJAxzBZYYnHbwdm1mIPjQ_csUhv-1vuR16KdoNv-jn3r_b8Z/s1600/creative+retreat-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckarEt2Yzr3tY3oFSGXQnzoAtNhXosyJPEs1Y7dcoOYkgI3ZlvuDWhXsOHH1o9ydu4v5QdLDE6cWUD1FYxZRK-3W9FdmKsJAxzBZYYnHbwdm1mIPjQ_csUhv-1vuR16KdoNv-jn3r_b8Z/s400/creative+retreat-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our fiercely compassionate guides<br />Andrea Scher and Laurie Wagner</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What do you want to remember? I want to remember it all. But I won't. We always forget, at least a little. Life goes on and we forget and fumble and struggle, but maybe I can remember that we are all in this together. That our spirits are intertwined now. That we are part of each other.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And even if my head forgets my spirit will remember, because you are all permanently imprinted upon my heart. </span></div>
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<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-50296683844365513842013-10-09T16:38:00.000-06:002013-10-09T16:38:12.933-06:00Now You See Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0qvL7Y9-7sVlfazuqTVBpL8vs5dscykeFvZ50KezRk_ozeB6a8WoJ4DcdRIelW9MaVwOJSlScHNL2NOrPqIC1I_RpxRA60wfYnmIlpQLqO0FynH1I9I4kY0BKXdXTmTeprp5eATvpPAn/s1600/2013-07-21+09.42.23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0qvL7Y9-7sVlfazuqTVBpL8vs5dscykeFvZ50KezRk_ozeB6a8WoJ4DcdRIelW9MaVwOJSlScHNL2NOrPqIC1I_RpxRA60wfYnmIlpQLqO0FynH1I9I4kY0BKXdXTmTeprp5eATvpPAn/s400/2013-07-21+09.42.23.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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It doesn't take advanced calculus or a degree in astronomy to see that it's been nearly a year since I last wrote. I wish I could say I stopped writing because I was performing on Broadway or starting my own business or becoming Zen. In truth I stopped writing because I had started to feel invisible and I was pretty sure nobody cared whether or not I wrote so I just stopped.<br />
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Unfortunaly it wasn't just in reguards to my writing that I was feeling lost and invisible. I was starting to feel used up and spent in just about every aspect of my life-church, home, family, friends.....everything I did went unnoticed, so why bother trying.<br />
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I read a book several years back by <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_11?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=nicole%20johnson&sprefix=nicole+john%2Caps%2C251&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3Anicole%20johnson">Nicole Johnson</a> called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Invisible-Woman-Special-Mothers/dp/0849918294/ref=tmm_hrd_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1381357174&sr=8-4">The Invisible Woman</a>. Apparenetly this feeling of invisibility is common for women. In her book Nicole Johnson wrote about how being a wife and mother is a lot like the work of building ancient cathedrals. So many of these beautiful monuments built to honor God still stand today as a large, visible testiments of devotion and sacrifice and yet for the most part we don't know the names of those who worked so hard to erect these monumnets. They did their work for only God to know. The point of all this talk about cathedrals was to draw a pareallel in the lives of mothers, meaning we too are laying the foundtain of a great work that, in many instances, only God can see. There is a paragraph in the book that sort of sums up the author's point:<br />
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It was almost as if I heard God say, "Charlotte, I see you. You are not invisible to me. I see the sacrifices you make every day. I miss nothing. No act of kindness, no peanut butter sandwich made, no shoe selection is too small for me to notice and smile over. I see your tears of disappointment when you feel overlooked or when things don't go the way you want them to. But you are buidling a great cathedral, and you cannont possibly see right now what it will ultimately become. It will not be finished in your lifetime, and you will never be able to live there, but if you build it well, I will."</blockquote>
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For a little while this idea gave meaning to my mundane tasks of folding laundry and washing dishes and mopping floors. For a little while I was able to imagine that all of these seemingly inconsequential chores were building something bigger and greater that I couldn't yet see. But, unfortunaly, those feelings didn't last for long. Soon it all felt tedius again and I felt more invisible then ever.<br />
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This feeling of invisibility kept me from reaching out beyond the walls of my home. Again, I figured nobody cared so why bother. I quit trying to make friends, quit trying to better myself, quit trying to make sense of it all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DVY1yKsNqyiW0lgvH9uoQ11e8oqz65ViMWjrjWOPC7BjWswJDclJuJqx1EdOaONnqUAkuZuZ6K4w6YAavdMbWUc3xaeS1R83woH3a80kS9JAoL1DY1bJPtj73bVM8AmCMUsqhjTlb3iK/s1600/2013-10-04+16.41.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1DVY1yKsNqyiW0lgvH9uoQ11e8oqz65ViMWjrjWOPC7BjWswJDclJuJqx1EdOaONnqUAkuZuZ6K4w6YAavdMbWUc3xaeS1R83woH3a80kS9JAoL1DY1bJPtj73bVM8AmCMUsqhjTlb3iK/s400/2013-10-04+16.41.40.jpg" width="400" /></a>But something incredible happend this last weekend at a magical place called <a href="http://www.27powers.org/">27 Powers Ct.</a> <a href="http://andriasmusings.blogspot.com/">Andria</a> and I attended a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Invisible-Woman-Special-Mothers/dp/0849918294/ref=tmm_hrd_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1381357174&sr=8-4">creative retreat</a>. I'm not sure what I was expecting or hoping for when we first signed up to attend way back in March. I think I mostly just wanted to see and spend time with Andria and this gave us an excuse. What I ended up reciveing was that and so much more.<br />
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What ended up happening was that an amazing group of women all gathered together at 27 Powers Ct. and lead by <a href="http://www.superherolife.com/meet-andrea/">Andrea Scher</a> and <a href="http://www.27powers.org/laurie-wagner/">Laurie Wagner</a> we painted and we wrote and we told stories and we cried a little and laughed a little and we ate and cried a little more and somewhere in the middle of it all I felt seen again! A safe circle was created in which we ALL shared of oursevles and everybody else listened when somebody else talked and it was amazing! I didn't have to compete for attention or recognition or understanding-because we all gave that to each other freely all weekend long.<br />
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But here's the really amazing thing-as soon as I started to feel seen by these wonderful women it seems like the rest of the world started to see me again, too. It's as if I came out from underneath the table and everybody went, oh, there you are. I can see you again. I didn't communicate any of this idea of feeling seen again to anybody back home-and yet when I arrived at the airport my husband had flowers for me.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">And my kids had each writeen me a sweet note about how much they appreciate me, as if they were all magically seeing me again for the first time in a very long time. </span></div>
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Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-9905150579481555362012-10-30T15:13:00.003-06:002012-10-30T15:13:39.675-06:00Secret Identity<br />
Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Wow-it's been awhile since I wrote here! But I have so many crazy busy thoughts in my head these days that are bursting to come out! I tired to ignore them for awhile, told myself I'd sit down and write when life settles down. But it's now becoming very obvious that life never really completely settles down. So today I decided the dishes could just stay dirty because I was going to write!<br />
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We've been going through a bit of an identity crisis at our house lately. In case you aren't up to speed Mike was laid off a little over 7 months ago. I think men especially (but women too) are prone to having much of their identity and self worth wrapped up in their job, in how well they provide for their family. So I think questioning what and who you are in times of job loss is a natural, albeit painful, part of the grieving and healing process-because trust me, you do truly grieve the loss of a job.<br />
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Not too much later I kissed my baby goodbye as he went off to his first day of school.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/8139628544/" title="IMG_1324 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1324" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8044/8139628544_f9833c995a.jpg" width="333" /></a>
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And suddenly the 3 little people that my life had revolved around for the last 8 years were all gone for 7 hours a day 5 days a week.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/8139631552/" title="IMG_1325 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1325" height="333" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8045/8139631552_6c49ed6c9a.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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I was left wondering who I was now. It's as if I only knew how to be "mom" and had entirely forgotten how to just be "Nicole".<br />
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Through these many months of trying to rediscover who we are my thoughts have often turned to the idea of Superheros. I've thought a lot about how they all have Secret Identities, mild-mannered alter egos. Do you remember that opening scene from <a href="http://disney.go.com/disneyvideos/animatedfilms/incredibles/main.html"><i>The Incredibles</i></a>?<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/B5lLv0x25VM" width="420"></iframe>
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I've been very obsessed lately with this idea of a Secret Identity. I think most Superheros discover their super powers, realize, as Mr. Incredible pointed out, that they don't want the pressure of being super all the time and then adopt a secret identity. But I can't get over this feeling that Mike and I are just simply going through the process in reverse. We already have pretty well established mild-mannered alter egos: that guy who went to work day in and day out and the girl whose days consisted of dirty diapers, dirty dishes, and dirty clothes. These little bumps in the road that life threw at us are simply the universe's way of trying to awaken the super heros that lie beneath.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/8139615655/" title="IMG_5204 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5204" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8463/8139615655_062567f1db.jpg" width="375" /></a>
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They are in there somewhere! Can you see them?<br />
<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-381983583685522702011-10-26T16:02:00.000-06:002011-10-26T16:03:38.142-06:00Slowing DownThe last two weeks I've been moving at break neck speed. I've been exhausted and stressed. My body has ached, my anxiety has been high, and I've more of less taken horrible care of my body through it all. Not enough sleep, eating all the wrong food, etc. etc. etc.<br />
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But today we reached a milestone. A BIG one. ALL of our stuff is FINALLY at our new home. It took us almost a week, and 2 U-haul trucks plus a lot of other driving back and forth in our car for all the "small stuff." But it's done now. The rental house is cleared out, cleaned up, and keys returned. We have officially closed the door on that chapter of our Arizona adventure. And I couldn't be happier about it!<br />
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Don't misunderstand, there is still a LOT of work left to do! I'm sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes that will likely takes weeks to unpack. Both garages are full of things that were just tossed in haphazardly so we could get the firsts U-haul returned before incurring yet another day's charges. There are 5 <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/10/form-vs-function-follow-up.html">ceiling fans</a> still in boxes sitting under my stairs and even more curtains waiting to be hung. (Nothing like moving into a new home with no window coverings to make you feel like you are living in a fishbowl.) The kitchen table is still buried. Clothes are still in suitcases. <br />
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But we are here! We have beds to sleep in and the kids feel like each day is Christmas as we find and unpack one more box of "lost" toys.<br />
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And I finally feel like I can slow down. I embrace the fact that it will take weeks (maybe months) to feel settled in and I can relax a little. I can take time to take my kids to the park again. (The weather is finally cooling down so such an activity is actually pleasant now.) I can go to bed at a decent hour. I can work my body without completely beating it up. I can take the time to eat a decent, healthy meal. I can take a morning to go volunteer at school. I can watch a movie or read a book or take a bubble bath! Because if this is going to take weeks anyway, what's the rush? <br />
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<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-19584705436160088372011-10-14T09:02:00.003-06:002011-10-14T09:02:55.286-06:00Baby Steps<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/6243329947/" title="All those stairs by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="All those stairs" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6054/6243329947_360e15de07.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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I just got up and I already want to go back to bed. Partially because I am still tired, but mostly because moving day is now less then a week away and I haven't yet begun to pack. I packed up some of the kids' toys last week but I haven't yet REALLY started to pack. Every time I try I stare at everything not knowing where to even start, then I get overwhelmed so then I just find something else to do instead. I just can't seem to wrap my head around the idea of moving again. I am very ready to be in our new home I just wish I didn't have to go through all the hassle of moving. It just feels like I JUST did it! It hasn't been long enough for me to forget what a pain it is. And this time we are really on our own to do it. Maybe that's why it's so hard this time. I just keep imagining me being the only person helping my husband lug heavy furniture up the stairs. All those stairs! What was I thinking?<br />
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I guess deep DEEP down inside I know things will somehow work out. I just wish I could convince the growing knot in the pit of my stomach of that.<br />
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I guess I just need to start <i>somewhere</i>. Baby steps, right? So, now it's time to get to work. I have some packing to do.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-71109682921942968592011-10-13T22:56:00.001-06:002011-10-13T23:06:33.149-06:00Piping hot bowl of Crazy<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/6242350513/" title="Photo by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="Photo" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6235/6242350513_61f432cebb.jpg" width="374" /></a><br />
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There was a line in an episode of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0285403/">Scrubs</a> in which JD refers to Elliot as a piping hot bowl of crazy. My husband laughed and laughed at this line, and has quoted it many times since.<br />
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Unfortunately, that is likely how the lady at the utilities department now describes me to all her friends and coworkers.<br />
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I'd like to blame it on the anxiety of the impending move and the associated anxiety and stress of getting ready to close on a new home.<br />
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Although that may have accounted for some of my craziness today, I think I mostly just got tired of stupid bureaucratic rules that I feel powerless to change.<br />
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I called the city utility company today to arrange for the water to be turned on, and the lady on the phone asked for my Social Security Number. I had already talked with both the gas and electric company who both also requested my SSN, so this request didn't surprise me. I declined to give it to her, as I had with the gas and electric company. Both the gas and electric companies wanted it so they could do a soft credit pull to make sure I was going to pay for my utilities should they go to the effort of turning them on for me. Upon refusing to give my SSN both utility companies instead assessed an up front deposit that will be refunded once I have made 12 on time payments. This is not a practice that I'm thrilled about. It sort of feels like a "guilty until proven innocent" approach. I mean what happened to just turning my power off if I don't pay? But, the deposit is refundable and it gets me out of giving my SSN. So I pay the deposit.<br />
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I assumed the city utilities would have a similar policy, so I politely declined to give my SSN. The lady on the phone informed me that I would then have to come into the office in person and provide identification before they would agree to service. And so I loaded my 3 kids up on the car and drove an hour to the City offices because it is that important to me to not give out my SSN unless absolutely necessary.<br />
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Upon arriving at the office I provide my ID and then the gal behind the desk again asks me for the SSN. I explain to her that I was under the impression that if I came personally into the office I wouldn't have to give it. I explain that I packed up my 3 kids and drove an hour specifically to avoid giving that information. She proceeds to explain that she is sorry I misunderstood but I still have to give my number, coming into the office was just to prevent me from having to give it over the phone.<br />
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At this point I'm starting to get mad because loading my kids in the car was NOT the way I wanted to spend my afternoon and now she was telling me it was all for nothing anyway. Assuming she wants my number in order to do a credit check I provide her with a copy of my credit report (with my number blacked out) that was given me by my lender.<br />
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At this point she explains to me that they don't do a credit check. The purpose of providing my SSN is merely to provide a unique identifier so that when I call on the phone they can assure they are talking to me. She tells me, "It's a security measure." So just to clarify I ask, "so basically you are just using it as a PIN?" She confirms that they ONLY reason they want my SSN is to use it as a PIN.<br />
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So of course I ask-why can't you just assign me a randomly generated 9 digit number then. As long as I know it and you know it it provides the same amount of security when I call on the phone without the exposure and risk associated with giving you my SSN.<br />
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Her response? "It's just our policy to use your SSN?"<br />
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"And what if I refuse to give it to you?"<br />
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"Then we will refuse service."<br />
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"What is to stop me from giving you a bogus number?"<br />
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"I guess if you feel good lying to me."<br />
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"Well that's just the thing. I don't want to lie to you. But I need water turned on at my house and I see NO need for you to have my SSN. So what choice does that leave me?"<br />
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The conversation went back and forth like this for quite some time. I tell her about how my Dr's office was at one point hacked and my SSN was compromised.The office then had to provide credit monitoring for everybody whose records were compromised and had opened themselves up for a class action lawsuit and this is what the city was opening themselves up to with their antiquated policy of requiring a SSN. Her response was that in all the time she's worked there they have never had any problems. To which I replied by saying that no problems in the past doesn't guarantee no problems in the future because let's face it, their little office isn't exactly Fort Knox.<br />
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I may or may not have used a few, shall we say, choice words. (Ok, I did.) I asked several times to speak to a supervisor, which she continued to refuse to let me do. We argued around and around and around in circles until I was so angry I was literally shaking and on the verge of tears all at once.<br />
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I swear I'm not typically "that" customer. This confrontation was so not typical of me. But something inside just snapped.<br />
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In the end, I am sad to admit, I gave her my number because bottom line is that I have to have water at my new house. I wish I had given her a bogus number. I'm typically a very honest person so I'm not proud of the idea of giving a fake number. But I'm not too fond of the idea of them having my SSN either. Really the only reason I didn't give a fake one is because I was so worked up at that point that I couldn't think straight enough to come up with something that I'd remember later.<br />
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I have since though written to the Utility Billing Administrator (yes, that is a real job title) explaining my dislike of the current policy and requesting that my number be scrubbed from their system and that I be assigned a random 9 digit number as in PIN. I cited Section 7 of the Privacy Act of 1974 (thank you Google!) that says<br />
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<i>"It shall be unlawful for any Federal, State or local government agency to deny to any individual any right, benefit, or privilege provided by law because of such individual's refusal to disclose his social security account number." Sec. 7(a)(1).</i><br />
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I don't know that you can interpret water and sewer service to be a "privilege provided by law" but it's a start anyway.<br />
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I also intend to write a letter to the City Council as well as to the Mayor if needs be.<br />
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Is their policy outdated and in need of revision?Defiantly! Am I getting just a tad worked up this? Perhaps. Am I a piping hot bowl of crazy? You bet! But I've never heard of a single person who changed the world by rolling over and playing dead.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-68321998085531938802011-10-03T13:57:00.002-06:002011-10-03T13:58:21.872-06:00Form Vs. Function Follow-upThanks to everybody who weighed in on my <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/09/form-vs-function.html">Form Vs. Function dilemma</a>.<br />
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In the end we ended up with a completely different fan that wasn't even originally in the running.<br />
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<img alt="Zoomed: Hunter 52" Alden Brushed Nickel Ceiling Fan" src="http://images.lowes.com/product/converted/049694/049694286697xl.jpg" /><br />
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This fan is brushed nickel, has 52" blades, and holds 6 40 watt bulbs (for a total output of 240 watts). The biggest downside of this fan is the downrod mount but that is made up for in the fact that this fan was only $39. Yes. $39. (It appears to be an old model that they are clearing out.)<br />
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Yes, when I realized I could get 8 of this fan delivered to my door for $344 the decision was easy.<br />
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In this instance turns out price was king.<br />
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<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-64566731759814573702011-09-29T11:01:00.003-06:002011-09-29T11:26:12.592-06:00Form Vs. FunctionWe've been shopping for ceiling fans. Turns out when you build a home in AZ they don't actually put light fixtures in the bedrooms or living areas. Instead you get a switched outlet and the idea is that you plug in a floor lamp.<br />
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I am not a fan of a floor lamp being my only light source plus I am a huge fan of ceiling fans so we optioned to have the bedroom and living areas pre-wired for ceiling fans. But it is just that-a pre-wire. No fans included.<br />
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At Lowes yesterday we found a fan that Mike is in love with and a fan that I am in love with. And this is a classic Mars vs. Venus scenario. Mike is completely focused on functionality and I am fixated on style.<br />
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Here is the fan I like.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/6195625118/" title="Photo by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="Photo" height="256" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6178/6195625118_c7874ab481.jpg" width="500" /></a>
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<br />
I like it because:<br />
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-It is brushed nickel, which is the color of the hardware throughout the house<br />
-It is decently sized with 52" blades<br />
-It holds 4 40 watt bulbs, for a total light output of 120 watts<br />
-I hate when you look at a light fixture and you stare straight at the light bulbs-this fan solves that problem in what I think, is a very stylish, unique fashion.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Here is the fan Mike likes.<br />
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<img alt="Zoomed: Hunter 60" Regalia Brushed Nickel Ceiling Fan" src="http://images.lowes.com/product/converted/049694/049694286659xl.jpg" /><br />
He likes it better because:<br />
<br />
-It, too, is brushed nickle to match our hardware<br />
-It has bigger blades-60" to be exact, which means more air flow<br />
-It hold 3 60 watt bulbs, for a total light output of 180 watts<br />
-This fan has an option for flush mount. The one I like requires downrod mounting, which can sometimes lead to more wobbling at higher speeds<br />
-This fan also hides the bare bulbs for softer/diffused lighting but I argue it's a more traditional way of achieving that, and is not nearly as stylish.<br />
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So what do you think? What is more important.....Form or Function????<br />
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<br />Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-38537042591647000112011-08-29T12:41:00.000-06:002011-08-29T12:41:01.718-06:00DrowningDo you ever feel like you are drowning in your own life? I am so craving some normalcy and organization and order to my life right now. I think a big part of it comes from living in this temporary house right now and having half my life still in boxes in the garage.<br />
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I actually thought that having less stuff unpacked would mean I'd feel more organized and put together. I thought it would be a chance to try out a new Zen lifestyle. But I find that it just makes me more unorganized then ever. For example all the office is all packed so I don't have my paper filing system in place. So papers from school pile up all over. I mean it's just little stuff like that but lots of little stuff is starting to add up and I don't feel like I have a handle on any part of my life. <br />
<br />
The 2 1/2 hours spent in the car each day running to and from school isn't helping any, either.<br />
<br />
I literally have 6 half finished blog posts. And ideas for half a dozen more. I'm flowing with ideas-but never have 20 uninterrupted minutes to get any of them out!<br />
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So while I try to catch up with my life if you have a minute today tell me your favorite, easy, inexpensive time management/organization tip. I could use ALL the help I can get!Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-48376071247253757372011-08-09T21:03:00.000-06:002011-08-09T21:03:11.846-06:00TodayThings that touched and inspired me today.<br />
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<a href="http://www.ordinarycourage.com/">Courage is a Heart Word</a> over at Brene Brown's Ordinary Courage Blog<br />
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<a href="http://www.superherodesigns.com/journal/archives/002197.html">We Can't Escape our Essence</a> over at Andrea Scher's Superhero Journal<br />
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Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-41118167386134383132011-08-08T14:11:00.011-06:002011-08-08T14:15:03.220-06:00AlmostI am ALMOST ready to write about my experience at <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-going-to-summer-school.html">Skip's Summer Schoo</a>l last week. I just need a little bit longer. A little more time to recover from the small wounds of vulnerability and to fully embrace the magic of vulnerability. (Don't you find it amazing how it can be both at the very same time?!?!?!)<br />
<br />
In the meantime, something a little funny to make you smile today. Because I'm a giver like that.<br />
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A few weeks ago I sent a text message to my parents with a picture of our new driveway.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5981434321/" title="Driveway and slab were poured this morning. by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="Driveway and slab were poured this morning." height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6123/5981434321_2945fa695b.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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A few days later we found ourselves stopped at a red light right next to the construction site for the <a href="http://mormontemples.org/gilbert">Gilbert, Arizona Temple</a>. So of course I snapped a picture and sent it to my parents.<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5985795001/" title="Gilbert, AZ Temple by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="Gilbert, AZ Temple" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/5985795001_dc21fc35e5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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Weeks later my dad sends me the following email:<br />
<br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A while back you sent a picture of your foundation and driveway being poured. Not long after that you sent a picture of the Gilbert</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="il" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Temple</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">going up. I didn't read the caption and was very surprised to see how big your new house was going to be...."</span><br />
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(Thanks for the chuckle, dad. Hope you don't mind me sharing it! If you do, it's too late. I already did!)Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-66836758546048493622011-08-05T15:20:00.002-06:002011-08-05T17:26:49.487-06:00Not yetI am home from my trip to <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-going-to-summer-school.html">Skip's Summer School</a> in Las Vegas. Everybody keeps asking how it was, and I want to tell you. REALLY I do!<br />
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But you see, I'm still kind of processing it all and although parts of it were great, other parts left me a little bit broken. So I don't think I can write about it.....yet.<br />
<br />
But I will.<br />
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In the meantime I will share this.<br />
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Sunday morning before Summer School started I was having brunch at the Paris buffet. From among all the things I could choose from to eat I decided to grab a fortune cookie. I honestly didn't even want to eat it. Part of me just needed a good fortune. I was feeling a bit nervous about what lie ahead of me and I think I was looking for a little comfort or encouragement.<br />
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I don't think it was by accident that I chose the cookie that contained this fortune.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/6012816596/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6128/6012816596_7e9a4027c5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Keep true to the dreams of your Youth.</span></b></div><br />
A simple enough message. Little did I know how much I would need this message in the upcoming days.<br />
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Monday at lunchtime I was feeling particularly exposed and vulnerable. I slipped over to grab some lunch at the food court across the street. I was standing in line for Chipotle but the line was long and taking forever and adjacent was a Panda Express that had no line at all. So, I jumped lines and grabbed some Orange Chicken. Which meant I also got another unexpected fortune cookie.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/6012816404/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6124/6012816404_5a15796492.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Stay Close to your inner-self.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> You will benefit in many ways.</span></b></div><br />
Once again, the perfect message to encourage me when I was struggling.<br />
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I'm still trying to piece together all my thoughts and feelings about my experiences over the last week. I feel like I am on the pinnacle of an important decision and I don't want to rush into it. But whatever I choose I will be forever grateful for these two little gems of wisdom sent to inspire me at a time that I needed it most. <br />
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You may call it coincidence, but I call it a remarkable blessing!!!Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-78601395196325075412011-07-14T13:52:00.005-06:002011-07-28T14:59:09.591-06:00Terrified... mortified... petrified... stupefied... by youI wanted to write this post about how I am beginning to have a bunch of fears associated with my <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-going-to-summer-school.html">upcoming trip to Vegas</a> for <a href="http://mei500.com/">Skip's Summer School</a>, and thought that since I haven't done a <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/search/label/%22Name%20that%20Movie%20Monday%22">Name that Movie Monday</a> in a while I'd throw one in as my title. Fitting, right?<div><br /></div><div>I know, it's not Monday. So sue me.<div><br /></div><div>Actually don't. We went back to our builder this week and opted for the wrought iron banister and so now they want more money. (Go figure.)<br /><div><br /></div><div>But I digress.</div><div><br /></div><div>I leave for Vegas in 16 days, and with each passing day I grow a little more terrified. I'm excited, yes, of course. But I'm also terrified. </div><div><br /></div><div>Why? Well because......</div><div><br /></div><div>....everybody else is going to have a better portfolio then me.</div><div><br /></div><div>....everybody is going to have a better camera then me. (I shoot a Rebel XSi)</div><div><br /></div><div>....everybody has more lenses then I do. (I own exactly two)</div><div><br /></div><div>....I prefer to shoot JPEG</div><div><br /></div><div>....what if I prove definitely that I don't know the difference between an f-stop and a pit stop?</div><div><br /></div><div>....I have nothing to wear!</div><div><br /></div><div>....I've put on a few pounds. (okay more then a few.....)</div><div><br /></div><div>....my pedicure is about worn off and I don't have time or $ for a new one before I go.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know what you are thinking-clothes and pedicures have NOTHING to do with photography. You try telling that to my irrational fears. </div><div><br /></div><div>I feel this added level of anxiety because I was hand picked from nearly 100 other photographers to attend Summer School on <a href="http://scottbourne.com/">Scott Bourne's</a> dime (he picked 10 of us total) and what if I am a disappointment? What if he ends up wishing he had picked some other deserving photographer instead?</div><div><br /></div><div>I am determined to prove that he didn't make a wrong choice. So I've spent this week re-reading my camera manual. I may "only" have a Rebel, but I can know it forwards and backwards.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been reading up a little more on all sorts of aspects of lighting so that I don't feel lost in any of my workshops.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been re-watching my <a href="http://zackarias.com/blog/">Zack Arias </a> downloads from <a href="http://www.creativelive.com/">CreativeLIVE</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been reading my <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0240813472?ie=UTF8&tag=shuttsiste-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0240813472">Shutter Sisters book</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>But mostly I've been praying that I won't make a complete fool of myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>Which is why I am SO glad that Skip Cohen posted this on<a href="http://skipsphotonetwork.com/2011/07/trends-with-this-years-summer-school-attendees/comment-page-1/#comment-2365"> his blog</a> today. </div><div><br /></div><div>According to this post 41% of attendees meet his definition of "newbie." That makes me feel like at least I won't be the only one there terrified of making a fool of themselves. It also means I am going to try harder to go out of my way to make others feel safe and comfortable there, because I am hoping others will be doing the same for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Also, according the Skip's post he has gotten a large number of questions from new photographers worried about fitting in. He says he has even been ask "what should I wear?"</div><div><br /></div></div></div><div>Yea!!!! I'm not the only one freaking out about what I should wear!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still terrified. But at least now I'm feeling a little less mortified and petrified. </div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-3167249025364571532011-06-30T17:58:00.002-06:002011-06-30T18:12:02.520-06:00VulnerabilityOne of the lessons in the <a href="http://mondobeyondo.org/">Mondo Beyondo</a> course is about vulnerability. We all try to hard to be so guarded all the time, trying to never open ourselves up to being hurt or ridiculed or embarrassed or shamed. So we put, what we consider to be, our best foot forward. We hide secret parts of ourselves and sometimes those secret parts are the very thing that makes us who we are. But, we're shy or embarrassed or afraid, so we keep it under wraps, pretend to be who we think other want us to be.<div><br /></div><div>But sometimes daring to be just a little bit vulnerable is just the key to opening up new doors. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I've been toying with some ideas, and trying vulnerability on for size. And I had this idea the other day. I was painting, because I'm always painting these days. I had the tunes cranked and was singing as dancing along as I rolled paint on the walls. Because this is what I do. I sing and dance. All the time. Not that I'm particularly good at either. But I like it. No, I LOVE it. My husband laughs at me a lot. And claims that I wished my life was a musical. (I tell him my life IS a musical, just nobody else has learned the choreography yet.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Just for a minute I got brave. I set up iPhone up on the step ladder, turned the camera on, and was just me for 5 minutes. I painted. I danced. I sang. I painted a little more. I danced some more. I painted to the beat of the music. All in a day's work for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had every intention of then posting that video here on my blog, because that would be a HUGE exercise in vulnerability. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I couldn't do it. It's a tad too embarrassing. A tad too real. </div><div><br /></div><div>Well actually I was going to suck it up and just post it before I could have second thoughts. But I asked my husband if he would be embarrassed for me if I put it on my blog....and he hesitated, just the slightest bit. So then I got all worried that it was even worse then I thought it was and I chickened out.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there will be no video of me busting a move with a blue paint roller in my hand. At least not today. I think maybe that was like jumping into the deep end of vulnerability and maybe what I need is to just dip my toe in. Test the waters before I drown in them. </div><div><br /></div><div>Do you have any stories about being vulnerable? How did they turn out? </div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-27986350945967334342011-06-15T09:02:00.006-06:002011-06-15T23:04:34.098-06:00It's about more then just the color of the walls<meta equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5837977535/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5155/5837977535_7b7b7b487b.jpg" width="500" height="380" alt="" /></a></div><div>
<br /></div><div>Yesterday I was<a href="http://sweatinandclickin.blogspot.com/2011/06/quick-clarification.html"> painting walls, again</a>. I feel like I have been painting walls for an eternity now. I literally have blisters and callouses on my hands from gripping a paint roller. Painting an entire house in a week is a LOT of work. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So there I am, all alone. My hands hurt and my neck hurt and my arms hurt. I started to question why I was going to all this effort. Yes, the walls were all neon yellow and florescent orange. And no, I didn't want to live in a house with neon yellow and florescent orange walls. But it WAS just a rental. And really we are just staying for 5, maybe 6 months until our home is done. And I started to think that all the people who said we were CRAZY for going to so much effort to paint a rental were right. Maybe we were in over our heads. Maybe it really wasn't worth all this.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>The conversation with myself was negative, and exhausting and I had to get out of my own head.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So I started listening to some of my <a href="http://www.mondobeyondo.org/">Mondo Beyondo</a> interviews.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Shortly I came to the one where <a href="http://http://jenlemen.com/blog/">Jen Lemen</a> interviews <a href="http://kellyraeroberts.com/">Kelly Rae Roberts</a>. Jen talked about how Kelly's entire house was a place were dreams could thrive. And then they spent the next 15 minutes talking about how important it is to create a physical environment that is conducive to dreaming. A space that is YOU. Where your essence is at home, at peace. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>And suddenly felt so glad we had made the CRAZY choice to paint. Even though this house is just a rental. Even though we will only be here for 5-6 months.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Because it is 5-6 whole months! And moving to Arizona in the first place was ALL about following dreams and following our crazy intuition and taking risks and finding out who we are. And what a shame if all that was sucked up in the neon yellow and florescent orange walls. How sad would it have been to lose our momentum and excitement because we were always hating those neon yellow and florescent orange walls.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Painting was no longer about the color of the walls. Painting was suddenly about creating a safe space for my dreams to thrive, because my dreams (and I should add my husband's dreams) are big enough and important enough and sacred enough to go to all this effort. At that moment painting the walls became almost spiritual to me. (Don't laugh, I'm being serious.) Making the walls clean and fresh and pretty again took on the feeling of a ritual cleansing of sorts, and it was no longer drudgery. It was a work that I was thrilled to be a part of. </div><div>
<br /></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-78069297632677343092011-06-13T10:46:00.003-06:002011-06-14T14:32:12.336-06:00The little thingsLast week had a <a href="http://sweatinandclickin.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-youre-up-youre-up-and-when-youre.html">few rough patches. </a><br /><br />One of the things that pulled me through was looking for small things to be grateful for.<br /><a href="http://sweatinandclickin.blogspot.com/2011/06/when-youre-up-youre-up-and-when-youre.html"></a><div><br /></div><div>The 97 cent spray bottle from Walmart. Every time I got so hot I thought I was going to literally melt into the pavement I had one of the kids spray me down with some cool water. Did the trick every time.<br /><br />A furniture dolly/hand truck.<br /><br />A ramp from the trucking company that was wide enough for the furniture dolly. At one point I was feeling tired beyond limit. Even with the furniture dolly unloading the truck was taking extreme effort and I wanted to quit. As I was directing one load down the ramp I noticed how narrow the ramp was, and how the wheels for the dolly really just barely fit. I was suddenly aware of what a wonderful thing that was!<br /><br />A landlord who happened to have a fully furnished rental around the corner that he was willing to let us stay in. Oh how wonderful it was to have a clean spot to eat a meal. A bed to sleep in that wasn't surrounded by the chaos of moving. I know that was a luxury most people aren't afforded when moving.<br /><br />My iPod full of tunes that kept me moving, kept my spirits up.<br /><br />Kids who have been mature beyond their age and have found ways to play together and entertain themselves and help one another out. My kids have been amazing little troopers and have rolled with the punches in an amazingly inspiring way.<br /><br />A husband who was patient with me when I needed 10 minutes (or maybe a little more) to let the overwhelming feelings <a href="http://www.superherodesigns.com/journal/archives/002123.html">flow in and be experienced so they could flow back out. </a><br /><br />A healthy body. It may have been sore and tired but it just kept doing what I needed it to do. I spent a lot of time thinking about my dear friend,<a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/01/friend-to-all.html"> MaeLynne,</a> and how her last months were spent in near constant pain, her body refusing to work the way it was supposed to. My body was just stiff and tired.<br /><br />We are still working hard this week. The truck is unloaded but there is still a lot to do before we are "at home" but I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.<br /><br /><br /></div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-242354897829261532011-06-10T22:22:00.000-06:002011-06-10T23:47:54.936-06:00I'm going to Summer School<div>I hate to boast-but life really is good right now.<div><br /></div><div>Yes, we are still wandering gypsies without a place to call home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes I am sore from painting for the last 3 days straight and I still have 6 more rooms to paint.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes I still have a 28' foot moving truck to unload before Monday morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yes, I am feeling a bit stressed and overwhelmed and afraid and tired.</div><div><br /></div><div>But life is still good.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it is the Arizona sun after a long, dreary Utah winter followed by an abysmal spring full of day after day after day of clouds and rain.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it is the excitement and hope that I am infused with from my participation in <a href="http://www.mondobeyondo.org/">Mondo Beyondo</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it is all the time I've been spending with my husband and kids. (We have taken family togetherness to an whole new level these last few weeks.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Or maybe it's a little of all the above added with just a pinch of magic.</div><div><br /></div><div>There truly must be some sort of magic involved because yesterday something truly magical happened.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have had my eye on going to <a href="http://mei500.com/">Skip's Summer School</a> for quite some time now. But things were all up in the air as far as when we were moving, and where exactly we would end up. Plus there was the expense of moving itself. So I just kept quietly wishing I could go, but telling myself it wasn't likely to happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>So yesterday morning I was quickly scanning my twitter feed before heading out to go paint some more when I saw <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/ScottBourne/status/78807143301648384">this tweet</a> from <a href="http://scottbourne.com/">Scott Bourne</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Scott was offering to <a href="http://photofocus.com/2011/06/09/im-buying-10-photographers-free-admission-to-skips-summer-school/">pay for 10 photographers to attend Skips Summer School</a>. I read it and my heart skipped a beat. And I got butterflies in my stomach. And my gut told me I needed to respond. NOW. I went through the negative self talk about how 100's would likely respond why should I win and that I had SO much to get done today I didn't have time.......but I silenced my self-doubt and sat down and composed a simple email to Scott.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then I went to work. I had a house to paint. I figured it would be a day or two before winners were announced anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had an email back from Scott in less than an hour. It simply said "Hi Nicole. You're in. See you at Summer School."</div><div><br /></div><div>I stood there in stunned silence, a paint roller in one hand, my iPhone in the other. </div><div><br /></div><div>And the surprises were just beginning. A short time later I received a phone call from <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/skipcohen">Skip Cohen</a> to finalize my registration for <a href="http://mei500.com/">Summer School.</a> Not a secretary or an assistant, but Skip himself. And he asked me about me, and what I wanted to accomplish, and directed me towards the classes as summer school that he thought would most help reach my desired goals. It was an extremely surreal experience. And the REALLY fun stuff is still to come!</div><div><br /></div><div>All because I wrote one little email.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, life IS good.</div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-64771242981133819272011-06-06T14:20:00.004-06:002011-06-06T14:23:23.060-06:00New BeginningsI just wanted to let my faithful followers know (all 4 of you) that I have started a new project and blog.<div><br /></div><div>Introducing<a href="http://sweatinandclickin.blogspot.com"> Sweatin' and Clickn'</a></div><div><br /></div><div>It is my 365 day photo challenge. A photo a day for a year, starting on our first day in AZ. </div><div><br /></div><div>Head on over for further details and join us on our new adventure. </div>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-22771607606791985982011-05-19T11:31:00.005-06:002011-05-26T12:52:17.649-06:00Purging<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5753808626/" title="Hard to part with by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3266/5753808626_4ee36dcf64.jpg" width="500" height="500" alt="Hard to part with"></a><br /><br />I wrote the above caption on that box 8 years ago, when we were packing to move into our home. In case you can't read it, it says "Nicole's tapes that she needs to chuck but she can't yet-still emotionally attached".<br /><br />We were newlyweds, moving into our very first house together, with a baby on the way. So much was new and exciting, but a part of me just needed to hang onto those tapes. I knew they were outdated. I never actually listened to them anymore because, well, my CD's produced much better sound quality. Plus iPods and other mp3 players were all the rage. I mean NOBODY was still listening to tapes. But I still couldn't part with them.<br /><br />Those tapes were the soundtrack of my childhood and teenage years. They contained the songs that got me over the heartbreak of losing class elections, or a friend who was gossiping behind my back at school, the songs of celebration when I aced a hard test. They were a part of who I was I just needed to hang onto them just a little longer.<br /><br />Fast forward to now, 8 years later. I have spent the better part of 2 months cleaning, and dejunking and packing up my house. 8 years and 3 kids later we've accumulated a lot of "stuff." I found myself easily tossing or donating things I didn't want or need anymore. So many things in my house just seemed to be weighing me down, holding me back. I was looking forward to the new adventure ahead, to the new beginning that this move would mean, and much of that stuff I was content to leave in my past.<br /><br />As I got rid of the physical "junk" a strange thing started to happen. I found myself getting rid of other things that were holding me back. Letting go of relationships that were no longer serving me. Saying good-bye to old habits that were draining my time and energy. Deleting blogs from my reader that no longer inspired me. Unfollowing people on Twitter who were just trying to sell me something. Anything that wasn't serving a specific, positive purpose in my life was slowly disappearing. It was like doing one of those popular juice cleanses, but without all the extra time in the bathroom.<br /><br />But then the other day as I was packing the office I came across that box of tapes. They were still in the same box I had packed them in 8 years ago, the quickly scrawled sharpie marker message still (mostly) readable, a thick layer of dust on top. I haven't even opened the box in all the years I've lived here. <br /><br />But despite my recent rash of purging I didn't toss this box in the garbage can. Instead I lovingly wiped the dust from the top, and carefully opened the box to glance at my past. And decided that part of my past still serves me. It is a part of me. And so I closed the box back up and placed it on the pile of boxes to be loaded on the moving truck. <br /><br />Because no matter how far I move, or how many new adventures I start, or how many times I try to "re-invent" myself-the true inner me remains the same. My core values remain unchanged. And I think those things are quite alright to hang onto.Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-84316815922980947852011-05-16T13:01:00.002-06:002011-05-16T14:27:22.307-06:00Daring to DreamDear Universe,<br /><br />I get the message. You REALLY want me to stop making excuses, stop being scared, and to finally start following my dreams. I know it's taken me awhile, and I don't always pay attention to the messages you send me, but I'm paying attention now. How could I not be? You are screaming at me loud and clear!!!!<br /><br />In ways too numerous to mention you paved the way and put all the pieces in place for our upcoming move to AZ. <br /><br />Then you inspired <a href="http://www.superherodesigns.com/journal/">Andrea</a> and <a href="http://jenlemen.com/blog/">Jen</a> to offer a two for one on <a href="http://www.mondobeyondo.org/">Mondo Beyondo</a>. And then you inspired my soul sister <a href="http://andriasmusings.blogspot.com/">Andria</a> to invite me to be her "plus one" for the whole adventure. <br /><br />Then Saturday when we ordered Chinese food this was my fortune in my fortune cookie.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5727849768/" title="Wow by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3459/5727849768_09f1a06203.jpg" width="500" height="500" alt="Wow"></a><br /><br />Then you used <a href="http://shuttersisters.com/home/2011/5/15/clues.html">Sunday's post</a> on <a href="http://shuttersisters.com/">Shutter Sisters</a> to make sure I was REALLY getting the point. How could I not get the message when the post started with this quote:<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style:italic;">"We need to find inspiration whenever we can, because when we're spiritually tuned in, everything is a clue pointing us in the right direction."</span>- Sarah Ban Breathnach, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0446561746/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=warmtone-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399349&creativeASIN=0446561746">Peace and Plenty</a></blockquote><br /><br />So today, as Mondo Beyondo begins I'm listening. I'm jumping in with both feet. I'm ready to find the path you are trying to lead me to. I'm finding the clues. I'm making room for <a href="http://thenicoleshow.blogspot.com/2011/03/stillness.html">stillness</a>. <br /><br />Let the dreaming begin!Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-22706175884218169112011-05-12T12:22:00.000-06:002011-05-13T14:33:48.107-06:00"You may be right, I may be CRAZY. But is just may be a lunatic you're looking for."Most couples have a song. And, generally speaking, that song is romantic. <br /><br />Billy Joel's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9S4NU-f6x6Q&feature=related"> You May Be Right</a> is our song. <br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5555910071/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5294/5555910071_e1947a888e.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt=""></a><br /><br />Even after nearly 9 years of marriage we frequently quote the lyrics to each other. "If I'm crazy then it's true, that it's all because of you, and you wouldn't want me any other way." That's just the way we roll.<br /><br />And, truth be told, we both are a little crazy. But we are each our own unique brand of crazy, and somehow we compliment each other perfectly.<br /><br />My husband is the type who washes his hands 10 times after being in a public place, and who will drive around the block 3 times just to MAKE SURE he closed the garage. He also MUST hear the beep the sound makes when you lock the car from the keyless entry 3 times before he is REALLY SURE the car is actually locked.<br /><br />Me, on the other hand, will often walk out of Target only to find I never actually locked the car. <br /><br />I have my own version of crazy though. For instance, when I was packing for our Disneyland vacation I would pick one day's clothes for a child (Shirt, pants, socks, underwear) and then roll that day's clothing all together, put the whole roll down in a gallon size zip lock bag, and then write the child's name on the bag. (Yes, I really did that!!!) That way each day I could quickly account for if I had packed enough clothes for everybody, plus then each day on vacation I pulled out one bag for each child and just handed it to them and knew they had everything they needed to get dressed.<br /><br />So yesterday I called my sister-in-law and told her that packing to move was bringing out all my crazy. I said "I always knew I was a little OCD....." to which she proceeded to laugh hysterically, then between tears said "I love that you think you're just a little crazy." (I'd be offended, except that she is right!)<br /><br />See, I was packing toys yesterday, and I couldn't bring myself to just toss all the toys together in a big box. I would first pack each individual type of toy in it's own zip-loc bag and then put the bags into a bigger box.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5713307653/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2709/5713307653_de38c3a508.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt=""></a><br /><br />So as I sat on the floor of my daughter's room separating Fairy shoes from Princess shoes (because heaven forbid fairies should mingle with princesses) I realized just how crazy I really am. <br /><br />Even the baby dolls got packed away in their own bags to keep them from getting dusty or dirty.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5713306161/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2060/5713306161_8de895348d.jpg" width="374" height="500" alt=""></a><br /><br />And yes, I do get that it looks like they are in body bags. Which amuses me to no end, which also makes me a little crazy.<br /><br />Last week I had packed all the Lightening McQueen-type cars and toys, and clearly labeled the box. Then taped up the box and moved it to the basement.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5713310907/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2497/5713310907_58cd363408.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt=""></a><br /><br />Then yesterday, way in the back of a closet, I found Flo.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5713309401/" title="Untitled by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2113/5713309401_c4f686b72a.jpg" width="500" height="374" alt=""></a><br /><br />A normal person would've just tossed her in with the Hot Wheels since there is an entire box of them as well, and that box isn't sealed up. But no, my OCD required that I go downstairs, cut open the already sealed box, dig to the bottom to find the cars that are just this size, open the zip-loc bag, place Flo inside, reseal the bag, repack the box, then reseal the box. <br /><br />Yup! You may be right, I may be crazy!!!!Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3259182932431808971.post-20189210696179175912011-05-05T15:32:00.002-06:002011-05-05T16:14:45.161-06:00Practice! Practice! and then Practice some more!!!!<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659017684/" title="Burton-79 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5181/5659017684_0985b8078b.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-79"></a><br /><br /><br />I always leave the house for a shoot feeling like it's going to be the BEST SHOOT <u><b>EVER</u></b>!!!!<br /><br />Usually I just read a new photography book, or watched a <a href="http://www.creativelive.com/">creativeLIVE</a> workshop and I feel like I now know everything I need to know to rock the shoot.<br /><br />But then I get there and the baby is in a bad mood.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5658437599/" title="Burton-46 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5225/5658437599_4c1b82c2df.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-46"></a><br /><br />Or the sun is in the exact wrong place and everybody has to squint. (Okay, or maybe the photographer is just in the wrong place.....)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5658443709/" title="Burton-77 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5070/5658443709_c6753da23f.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="Burton-77"></a><br /><br />Or I take a picture that I love, only to get home and find that it is woefully blurry!!!!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659005510/" title="Burton-12 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5269/5659005510_7c45fbd0f2.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-12"></a><br /><br />There are just so many stinking variables to account for all the time. The professionals make it all look so very easy! But I, at times, find it all so overwhelming. <br /><br />Yet-the only way to get better is to practice, practice, practice!!!!<br /><br />So, as always, a big thanks to all my guinea pigs who let me practice on them. Like the lovely Burton Family.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659012450/" title="Burton-52 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5108/5659012450_3bf0cdb6d9.jpg" width="500" height="334" alt="Burton-52"></a><br /><br />Sometimes the key is to just sit back and wait for the moment....<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5658451015/" title="Burton-122 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5224/5658451015_873c9f9d77.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="Burton-122"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659007746/" title="Burton-25 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5263/5659007746_f5c2be6e81.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="Burton-25"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659023520/" title="Burton-117 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5229/5659023520_37e6d54a47.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt="Burton-117"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5658442089/" title="Burton-68 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5109/5658442089_70e8120e7b.jpg" width="500" height="334" alt="Burton-68"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659019540/" title="Burton-90 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5062/5659019540_4d2b338d44.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt="Burton-90"></a><br /><br />And let's be honest...sometimes I just take a ton and pray for one to turn out just right.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659011764/" title="Burton-48 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5189/5659011764_b191ccb302.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-48"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659009108/" title="Burton-34 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5067/5659009108_382f6f65a1.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-34"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5658435833/" title="Burton-35 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5305/5658435833_c6ff38779a.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-35"></a><br /><br />But at the end of the day I'm just so happy to be out doing something I love. (And I don't mean that in a cliché way. I mean it in the I really have fun doing it even if my pictures don't turn out 100% the way I had hoped kind of way.)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nikitiger/5659006728/" title="Burton-19 by Nikitiger, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5659006728_f4241fb396.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Burton-19"></a>Nicolehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01118546573573395042noreply@blogger.com4