<?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-5618525035963350745</id><updated>2011-08-03T07:39:41.808-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Republic</title><subtitle type='html'>A hodge podge of the intelligent, the insane, the witty, somber declarations, deep meditations and tales from the wide wide world.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-1558944649136897207</id><published>2010-11-05T13:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T13:49:36.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadow of Chill</title><content type='html'>I find it curious that I usually start posting in my blog every year around the same time; that is, when the cold weather arrives. Am I retreating to a familiar hideaway from the wintry blast, or does this weather bring the contemplative out in me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is something...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-1558944649136897207?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/1558944649136897207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=1558944649136897207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/1558944649136897207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/1558944649136897207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2010/11/shadow-of-chill.html' title='Shadow of Chill'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-383059520724995782</id><published>2009-11-16T12:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T12:40:27.838-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Warm Sleeves of Autumn</title><content type='html'>I woke up to a frigid morning, prompted by my legs announcing that the cover on the bed had fled to the neutral country of the floor, and that they were in effect, freezing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cooler weather always arrives here overnight. In fact, it's rare that we ever get a front during the day. Bundling through the cracks and sills during the pitch of the night, it unpacks all of its trappings in a groaning symphony of windy gusts, and greets you in the morning, sitting in your favorite spot with its tousled hair and sloppy, wind capped grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My closet is woefully ill-equipped to handle such a procedure, and an excursion to external territories, in search of warmer garb, becomes imminent. Armed with a mug of hot tea, I trot to the storage shed, cursing the wind as it blows sticker burrs into my socks, shuffling through a river of fallen leaves that has appeared miraculously overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shed is warm from the previous night, and the shadowy forms of boxes stare out at me, daring me to begin and search for the prize. After much arranging, I find a box of winter clothes, and promptly begin prospecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter clothes are like old friends. Folded the previous year and unceremoniously packed away, they have waited, their arms wrapped around memories of cold weather escapades. Lifting them from their lair, reminiscent memories and smells drift around me. Burying my face into a warm turtleneck, I can taste Landshark Lager, drape lights upon the eaves, and see the warm flicker of a football game, deep within a house christened by a misty November evening. A soccer balls rolls merrily from my reach as Thomas charges it from across the street, and Kristi calls that supper is ready from the porch; pork chops with macaroni and cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fill my arms with warm winter blankets and furry skull caps.&lt;br /&gt;Slipping into a warm jacket, I feel secure, almost festive.&lt;br /&gt;The cold weather is here! Let new adventures begin!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-383059520724995782?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/383059520724995782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=383059520724995782' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/383059520724995782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/383059520724995782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2009/11/warm-sleeves-of-autumn.html' title='The Warm Sleeves of Autumn'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-2800041391210110078</id><published>2009-08-25T13:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T13:30:46.155-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Leopard</title><content type='html'>Microsoft, take note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apple is releasing its newest operating system, &lt;a href="http://www.internetnews.com/software/article.php/3835911/Mac+OS+X+106+Apples+Snow+Leopard+Pounces.htm"&gt;OS X 10.6&lt;/a&gt;, codenamed "Snow Leopard", this Friday. If you're a Mac user, the pricetag will range from $10-$29. Wouldn't it be nice if Windows could be upgraded for such an amiable price?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it isn't open source, but for closed source, big-box marketing, it's a step in the right direction. Increased 64-bit support and programs add the icing to the cake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-2800041391210110078?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/2800041391210110078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=2800041391210110078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/2800041391210110078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/2800041391210110078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2009/08/snow-leopard.html' title='Snow Leopard'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-4358324141804810825</id><published>2009-03-02T10:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T10:50:10.083-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Texas Independence Day!</title><content type='html'>On this day, March 2nd, 1836, nestled in a quiet and lovely bend on the Brazos River, our state's fathers met to draw up the Constitution of the Republic of Texas, declaring independence from Mexico and in the process becoming one of the greatest nations ever founded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless Texas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Texas, Our Texas" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texas, Our Texas! all hail the mighty State!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texas, Our Texas! so wonderful so great!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boldest and grandest, withstanding ev'ry test&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O Empire wide and glorious, you stand supremely blest. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,&lt;br /&gt;That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.&lt;br /&gt;God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,&lt;br /&gt;That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texas, O Texas! your freeborn single star,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sends out its radiance to nations near and far,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Emblem of Freedom! it set our hearts aglow,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;With thoughts of San Jacinto and glorious Alamo. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,&lt;br /&gt;That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.&lt;br /&gt;God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,&lt;br /&gt;That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texas, dear Texas! from tyrant grip now free,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shines forth in splendor, your star of destiny!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mother of heroes, we come your children true,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Proclaiming our allegiance, our faith, our love for you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://profile.ak.facebook.com/object3/713/71/n53611603715_5318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px" alt="" src="http://profile.ak.facebook.com/object3/713/71/n53611603715_5318.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-4358324141804810825?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/4358324141804810825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=4358324141804810825' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/4358324141804810825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/4358324141804810825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-texas-independence-day.html' title='Happy Texas Independence Day!'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-2436367663602396632</id><published>2009-01-22T13:29:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T01:46:27.415-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Roads Less Travelled with More Water.</title><content type='html'>I shall be telling this with a sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="16"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere ages and ages hence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="17"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="18"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the one less traveled by,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="19"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that has made all the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Robert Frost&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;excerpt from &lt;strong&gt;The Road Not Taken&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like Frost; taking a road that seems to be deserted save for me, at times. My life hasn't taken the road most others take in life. Most people have a set creed, travelling through high school, then on to college, career, marriage, a long domestic and professional life, then retirement. I haven't followed in the least. My life has been a series of random and haphazard adventures, strung together with the tenuous thread of a difficult childhood and the adhesive of an undying determination to succeed at glorifying God and enjoying Him forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only regret is being 25 years old and having no direction or inclination of what to do with my life. It keeps me awake at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Here is a small tip for all of you who are blessed not to work in retail, and wind your way through all the glorious aisles of goodies at your favorite retail center. When you come upon an aisle that is blocked by a pallet of bottled water and one or two workers who are busy stocking it, do not assume that loud sighs and clearing your throat will alert them to the fact that they are impeding your progress. Ask us to make way for you to get through. We're already self-concious of the fact that we're in way, and we desperately don't wish to be, so if you ask, I'm sure that you will be facilitated by a ready smile and apology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Matthew and I were stocking water the other night, and this old man traversed the aisle with his grandsons. The oldest grandson was a college student home for the holidays, dragging the relectant grandfather and younger brother along for critical supplies. The grandfather watched in horror as his grandson procurred a case of bottled water, and proceeded to dress him down on the spot, citing a "sinkfull of water at home" and "drinking well water in the Depression" as prime reasons why good money should not be wasted on water in a bottle. the grandsons fought back with the "quality of [Cameron's] city water" and "excessive carbon and chemicals" as the reasons for buying the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the pair exited the aisle, old man looked at Matt and I, and said boldly so everyone could hear, "I've drunk water for 67 years, and I've never bought water in a bottle. May God save us all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, it made my day. Maybe it was the generational dissent, or the humor, but ultimately, his vintage and frugal reasoning made me smile, and made me wish for 1936 for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Arizona Cardinals and Pittsburg Steelers are going to the Super Bowl. May the best team {*cough* the Cardinals} win!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-2436367663602396632?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/2436367663602396632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=2436367663602396632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/2436367663602396632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/2436367663602396632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2009/01/roads-less-travelled-with-more-water.html' title='Roads Less Travelled with More Water.'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-5422832584590666075</id><published>2009-01-15T14:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T14:10:18.786-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Out With The Old</title><content type='html'>I took down my old website this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just time to do it. I've been getting progressively irritated by all the old things that I have stored away, or those things that have been status quo for several, if not many, years. I told Teek last night that I am craving adventure; something new, exciting, and different. Although I have no idea what it is, I am getting rid of old things that stand in my way, or objects which I no longer use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put together a quaint little &lt;a href="http://www.dixiesland.com/"&gt;placeholder&lt;/a&gt; for the time being, consisting of a fall photo and a poem I wrote last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows, maybe someday I'll have another website. One with a defined purpose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-5422832584590666075?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/5422832584590666075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=5422832584590666075' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/5422832584590666075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/5422832584590666075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2009/01/out-with-old.html' title='Out With The Old'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-5310267458582976090</id><published>2008-12-08T12:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T14:51:48.812-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Retail Riddles</title><content type='html'>The world of retail is so very odd. Volatile to a fault, and rife with inner politics, insanity, and overall chaos, it never ceases to puzzle and surprise me. In my personal case, I was employed with one of the nation's largest retailers for three years, working steadily towards business management and eventual store management. My "career" was cut short by managerial bickering, politics, and of course, the ever present drama of the "he said, she said" chain of command failure. I left, disillusioned and vowing never to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, the district manager calls and personally asks me to return. Just like that. The store's managerial staff has been replaced, new initiatives are in place, and it's an entirely different ball game. Here I go again, may God have mercy on my confused and displaced soul. I report back to my old job at 0900 hours tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's give it one more try, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to join the cadre of retail workers trying to survive yet another holiday season, amid the impatient and selfish masses of shoppers, and it's strangely exciting. I thrive under pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not, of course, what I want to do for the long term, but as I am working towards larger goals, this small responsibility will keep me sharp, focused, and ironically, entertained.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-5310267458582976090?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/5310267458582976090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=5310267458582976090' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/5310267458582976090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/5310267458582976090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/12/retail-riddles.html' title='Retail Riddles'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18216222665830383525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c4GtlFHhZHw/SSsIf-4iY9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/3V6RW4Xw0ro/S220/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-5653487259801900738</id><published>2008-11-05T12:14:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T12:30:56.241-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember, Remember.</title><content type='html'>Guy Fawkes Day is a blast. Americans really should think about adopting it as the perfect excuse to spout nursery rhymes about revolutionaries and sit around, drinking tea, discussing the fate of the modern world's government systems. I am probably the only one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Remember, remember, the 5th of November;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Gunpowder Treason and Plot.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I see no reason&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why the Gunpowder Treason,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Should ever be forgot.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind is beginning to wax eloquent on leaves and limbs, as it increases in speed and vehemence. The "cold" front is arriving earlier than predicted. The cats are eyeing the doors, concocting a plan to gain warm, fluffy refuge in the house. It's a perfect day for pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wonderful autumn weather is book weather. It also enhances the shopping instincts, sharpening that deep seated desire to barricade yourself in a bookstore, amid mountains of delectable books and immserse yourself in that literary escape of reading. Half Price Books was my first campaign, and victory was achieved by finding Burke's &lt;u&gt;Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful&lt;/u&gt; for only one dollar. One dollar for such a treasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate and raspberries are the perfect marriage of flavor. I'm enjoying every bite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-5653487259801900738?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/5653487259801900738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=5653487259801900738' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/5653487259801900738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/5653487259801900738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/11/remember-remember.html' title='Remember, Remember.'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-8633722582237194738</id><published>2008-10-09T16:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T16:19:44.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Again</title><content type='html'>The trip was supposed to be longer ; a three month long contract construction job, in the damaged coastal areas of Texas and Lousiana. However, due to a wide variety of events outside our control, we only ended up staying around three weeks. The was a vast abundance of adventures, driving, and strange occupational activities that many us never dreamed of, but all in all, it was a fantastic experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after 2,944 miles, I am finally back home, recuperating from a severe head cold, and considering other job opportunities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was Ben's 24th birthday. Thomas, Kristi, and I took him to Dave and Buster's, and had a time of much hilarity and amusement! The key lime pie was excellent, and the grilled shrimp were received with universal acclamations of delight. Ben was fascinated by the lamp that was fastened to the side of the table, and spent the greater part of the meal conspiring of how to abscond with it. In the end, he was content with the souvenier glass that the staff presented him for his birthday, and we departed into the gaming room for a night of virtual combat, racing, and Dance Dance Revolution, at which I am a miserable failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The air outside has a peculiar, bracing quality to it; I believe I shall go for a walk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-8633722582237194738?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/8633722582237194738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=8633722582237194738' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/8633722582237194738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/8633722582237194738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/10/back-again.html' title='Back Again'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-6173610196709263963</id><published>2008-09-11T19:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:40:33.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurricane Flurry</title><content type='html'>Hurricanes in Texas are somewhat of a novelty. We are not strangers to the occasional beach-lashing, but said lashings are so few and far between, that when one does decide to head for Texas, hustle and bustle breaks loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right now, the highways are a veritable jam of people fleeing low ground in search of higher ground, which happens to be Central Texas. It was comical, when I was getting gas after work, to see the big city drivers frustrated with the laid-back attitude of the locals. Honking your horn at the driver in front of you may get results in Houston, but in little ol' Rockdale, it only illicits a raised eyebrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For someone like me of course, who has a morbid fascination with storms and inclement weather, a hurricane is nothing more than free entertainment. I love nothing more than to drive through high waters, be drenched  in rain, buffetted by high winds, and have that dangerous element of disaster lurking nearby. One of these days, I WILL be a stormchaser, in my decked-out Hummer with all my gear, gallavanting around in all kinds of storms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain, rain and more rain! Which means floods. Which means I get to rescue and aid people, which I also love. Helping the local fire departments is always fun, and helping others during a natural disaster is even better than the weather it brings. There's always aftermath, but that's what I love about this state. Neighbors may be hundreds of miles apart, but rebuilding doesn't take long in the Lone Star State, and everyone wants to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's just that element of preparing; the storing of supplies, checking of flashlights, gear, and buildings, and battening down the hatches to brave the foaming onslaught of a hurricane, tucked away in your fortress, or roaming the wild weather to lend aid and frolick in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me crazy, but this shall be an adventure. Of sorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My internet company is headquartered in Houston, so I shall probably be without internet for weeks.  0_0&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-6173610196709263963?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/6173610196709263963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=6173610196709263963' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/6173610196709263963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/6173610196709263963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/09/hurricane-flurry.html' title='Hurricane Flurry'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-3918899998647450817</id><published>2008-08-11T21:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T21:14:36.147-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Computer!</title><content type='html'>I finally have assembled and successfully configured my new computer! Whew, I am exhausted. Next time I think I will get someone else to build me one, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Specs:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intel Core 2 Duo : Wolfdale E8400 @ 3.00GHz&lt;br /&gt;4GB RAM&lt;br /&gt;500GB HDD&lt;br /&gt;Sound Blaster XFi sound card&lt;br /&gt;nVidia 8800GT, 512MB GDDR3 video card&lt;br /&gt;(2) Samsung 22X DVD burners&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and of course, good ol Windows XP Pro, with SP3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sooooo tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZZZZzzzzz......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-3918899998647450817?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/3918899998647450817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=3918899998647450817' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/3918899998647450817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/3918899998647450817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-computer.html' title='New Computer!'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-3133948545891073919</id><published>2008-07-27T17:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T17:45:25.491-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Rush</title><content type='html'>I have found that the summer distracts you from blogging, and a lot of online activities. It's just that simple. There is just so much to do in the summertime, and the time is just full of activity, and bustle, and before you know it, you haven't posted on your blog or checked your Facebook for weeks, and don't even really mind it that much. You're too caught up in the rush of summer to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now winter and fall is a different story. Especially in the winter. It's cold, and ideas, thoughts, and plans seem to incubate in the warm corners of your mind, as you bask in the glow of your screen amid a pile of brownies and hot cocoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the summer? Facebook? Blogging? HA! Let's go to the lake and get burned half to death by the sun, and then drown our sorrows in ice cold Coke and BBQ. Or watch an evening movie, followed by a late-night swim. Swimming in the dark is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been busy at work. We were audited, and although it was stress, it was comical to see the things a small company gets flustered about. Compared to Walmart, it isn't hard at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The biggest news of all:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer, after 8 dedicated years of service, died and took everything with him. Except my external harddrive, which thankfully has most of my stuff backed up to it anyway. So now, I get to build a new computer, out of custom parts, which is one of my favorite hobbies. It might take awhile, but hopefully not too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also been seriously contemplating this being my last PC. Mac just keeps looking better and better. I need several Mac-savvy friends to start teaching me about them though, because I am lost. So any help from all you Mac-Attacks would be awesome. I'd love to hear your Mac experiences. Besides being better engineered, designed, etc, they are just plain beautiful. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where do I start with Macs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quote of the Day:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chris:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;*at Walmart* It's hot in here. *pause* I think I'll go buy a new hoodie...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grant:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Okaaaay....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-3133948545891073919?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/3133948545891073919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=3133948545891073919' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/3133948545891073919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/3133948545891073919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/07/summer-rush.html' title='Summer Rush'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-1327693587775956514</id><published>2008-01-30T13:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T13:54:47.256-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2007 - Realizations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As the first month of this new year draws to a close, I pause one more time to look back at the last year one more time, before closing the box of memories and consigning it to a dusty spot in my mental attic, to mingle pleasantly with the pungent aromas of years well lived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Looking back on an entire year is monumental, if not breathtaking in its massive finality and entirety. It was hurricane of emotions, events, pleasures, tragedies, and above all, realizations. I've taken to the eccentric habit of given a summary to each of my years; an epitaph, if you will, of what the entire year could be summed up as.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For me, the year of two thousand and seven was the Year of Realizations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When embarking out into the independent scene known collectively as the wide, wide world, a young person is assaulted with many new perceptions and realizations about what it truly means to be an adult. Not merely an adult in academic terms, but the complex facets of spiritual and mental adulthood as well. For me, when I graduated high school and went out to get a job, it all rushed at me. Every new thing was overwhelming. Some things were exciting, many things confusing, and an entire frontier of complex and intricate decisions arose, giving birth to others in their wake. Although I made decisions, coped with situations, and successfully navigated obstacles, I was not able to make sense out of it. Will it ever make sense? For as long as I live, I shall never know everything about life, and my part in God's plan for it, and this was my first and most important realization.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was not wandering, clueless and undirected as to my course. I felt as if I was in a fog, racing headlong, searching for anchor points from which to spin a web of substantial construction, so that I could build myself stronger and more prepared for the next challenge. These realizations loomed suddenly like massive rocks in a fog, upon which I was dashed with ferocity. Distant and ill defined in the foggy expanse, they became solid and concrete. With blood on my face, I felt them, and having ascertained that they were indeed real, I began to pick my way carefully towards a distant light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Life is not too short, life is insanely fragile. The knife of Eternity cuts deep in the mere blink of an eye, severing life on earth with a quick and burning flourish. The darkest day of the year was that phone call; that hollow, piercing phone call with its wretched sense of finality. On a dark and lonely highway, an entire car of some of my dearest friends lost their lives in a lashing storm of twisted metal and showers of broken glass. Their future in Heaven was sure, but the loss was the beginning of a train of thoughts that made me realize some very important truths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The most important realization of the year was how I was impressed with the importance to live life to the fullest, glorifying God and enjoying Him forever. Simple things like your loved ones; family and friends, the wonderful and vast expanse of Creation, and serving others became very important to me, but I was not sure how important until I went on my second backpacking trip to Colorado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This trip was taken with the same guys I had gone with my high school graduation year, with the addition of two other father and son groups. This was by far the best event and memory of the entire year, and a very difficult challenge physically. Spending so much time in God's vast creation, miles from any distraction, with only the sounds of nature and the company of your comrades in adventure, the rush of everyday life was exposed for all its evil. Every day is filled with deadlines, the clock is your enemy, you rush to complete miniature milestones in your career, and money increases it's hold and demand on you. Far from these distractions, lying under the stars, in the very palm of God atop the Continental Divide, I suddenly realized how foolishly I was directing my life. For what should happen if I could actually attain my financial and physical goals, but achieved them at the expense of family, love, and the simple pleasures and blessings of life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There are no deadlines with God. All the deadlines and accomplishments that we invent to make us feel developed and successful are empty of any real meaning. It is one thing to be fiscally responsible, but another to base your life around physical status. Society pressures us to check off the boxes on the way, but have you ever stopped to ask yourself what we are on the way to? The hurried rush of a society, swimming desperately one way, calls for us to follow. Go to college, get a high-paying job, get married, have kids, buy your own house, get a retirement fund, send the kids to college, retire, buy an RV and list goes on and on. I admit that I too fell for the pitch of modern society. I had everything planned out. I'd get a degree and a good job, so that I could get a house and a substantial income to care for the wife I would marry and family I would raise. What if the job never comes? What if I run past true love on the way to the bank?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have resolved that life is more than dollars and cents, bills and rents, and car payments. The only right way to live your life is before God with no regrets, while living for Him the best way that He directs you. I would far prefer to live in a small flat with my soul mate, facing the challenges of making our way, loving her and God, knowing that He will provide for us if we only follow Him, rather than have a nice house, and a perfect wife who is emotionally distant because I'm away on business trips most of the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If I could choose between a nice house and walking on the beach with the woman of my dreams, I'd choose the beach. If I could choose between a sports car and taking my kids to a state park, I'd choose the park. If I could choose status or honor before God, I'd choose to live before God, and follow the way He chooses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The simple things in life matter more than gold and fame. A deep breath in the morning, a warm cup of tea, rain showers in June, bird watching on the Gulf Shore, or playing tag football with the youth group; these things are truly gifts from God. To rush over them in pursuit of riches would be a devastating loss in the end. The song &lt;strong&gt;Faust, Midas, and Myself&lt;/strong&gt;, by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Switchfoot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, exemplifies this thought eloquently:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This one's about a dream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I had last night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How an old man tracked me home&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And stepped inside&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Put his foot inside the door&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And gave a crooked smile&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Something in his eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Something in his laugh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Something in his voice&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That made my skin crawl off&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Said I've seen you here before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know your name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How you could have your pick&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Of pretty things&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You could have it all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything at once&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything you've seen&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything you'll need&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything you've ever had in fantasies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One life left to lead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You have one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You have one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One life left to lead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I woke up from my dream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As a golden man&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With a girl I've never seen&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With Golden skin&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I jumped up to my feet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She asked me what was wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I began to scream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't think this is me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is this just a dream&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or really happening?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One life left to lead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One life left to lead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I looked outside the glass&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;At golden shores&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Golden ships and masts&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With golden cords&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As my reflection passed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hated what I saw&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Golden eyes were dead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A thought passed through my head&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A heart that's made of gold can't really beat at all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanted to wake up again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanted to wake up again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Without a touch of gold&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Without a touch of gold&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Life begins at the intersection&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What direction now?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I woke up as before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But the gold was gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My wife was at the door&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With a night robe on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart beat once or twice&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And life flooded my veins&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Everything had changed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My lungs had found their voice&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And what was once routine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Was now the perfect joy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You've one life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One life left to lead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have resolved to stop rushing, and start looking, listening, and serving. I want to pay better attention to what’s really important, and eliminate trivial distractions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This coming year, I want to overcome my fears. I want to become more confident. I want to overcome my fear of heights, fear of swimming, fear of public speaking, fear of meeting new people, and any fears that hold me back from being the person I was meant to be. I want to have adventures, to explore new frontiers in every aspect of my life. I want to grow in the strength and knowledge of the Lord, and stand for the foundations of His Word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I want to meet her. The one God has picked out for me. I may have already met her, or maybe it shall be years down the road. Whatever God's plan is, I pray that He would see fit not to let young love pass me by, and that He would direct my steps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tossed by a thousand waves, pinned to the rolling deck of my life, tasting blood and sea water, I was flung into a searing fire, burning until there was nothing left to hold on to but the Lord. The calm wind of certainty and confidence blew the smoke and ashes from the pit, revealing the smallest melted nugget of gold. Holding it close to my heart, I shall endeavor to start anew, and take my life to the place it should be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-1327693587775956514?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/1327693587775956514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=1327693587775956514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/1327693587775956514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/1327693587775956514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2008/01/2007-realizations.html' title='2007 - Realizations'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618525035963350745.post-8020130115834846689</id><published>2007-10-28T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T22:53:43.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger Encore</title><content type='html'>I remember this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when blogging was the newest thing, or "all the rage" as the media describes it, I jumped on the bandwagon and formed my own little Blogger account. The ads on the top and bottom of the pages were actually pretty frequent, so when I discovered Xanga, I opted for the lesser of the ad evils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xanga has served me well these three or four years, and I love it. However, I find it lacking in certain qualities, and based on my personal taste and preference, I've decided that Blogger will be the new home of my writings and ramblings. I'll still have Xanga to network with my friends, and I'll post occasionally, but Blogger has called me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618525035963350745-8020130115834846689?l=grantonia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/feeds/8020130115834846689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618525035963350745&amp;postID=8020130115834846689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/8020130115834846689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618525035963350745/posts/default/8020130115834846689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grantonia.blogspot.com/2007/10/blogger-encore.html' title='Blogger Encore'/><author><name>Grant H.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://www.dixiesland.com/Images/blogs/Profiles/silver_profile.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
