<?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-8029281684072620998</id><updated>2011-07-07T19:15:25.656-07:00</updated><category term='men'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='humor'/><title type='text'>Insomnia triggered ranting. . . and other writings</title><subtitle type='html'>Insomnia sucks, but it gives me a chance to write, and rant so enjoy.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-1464424130536202207</id><published>2011-05-19T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T17:10:27.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1</title><content type='html'>My friends and family have been doing this 30 day photo challenge so I thought I would join in the fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b5vG7UkMHWU/TdWwBaiPBgI/AAAAAAAAADA/nuMS6VYVBIQ/s1600/100_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b5vG7UkMHWU/TdWwBaiPBgI/AAAAAAAAADA/nuMS6VYVBIQ/s320/100_0007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608582449309091330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1 - A picture of yourself with 10 facts.&lt;br /&gt;1. I grew up in a small town and, every day wish I could move back there.&lt;br /&gt;2. My siblings are the most important people in the world to me. I may not get to see them much but I love them more than words can say.&lt;br /&gt;3. My mom is by far my best friend, with Brandy Jo, and Courty being close runners up.&lt;br /&gt;4. My dad just might be the funniest person on this planet, that is if you can understand his humor ; )&lt;br /&gt;5. Most days I feel so very overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;6. I love my job with more passion than I could ever love anything else, maybe thats why I'm single. . . &lt;br /&gt;7. I'm scared of heights&lt;br /&gt;8. I'm addicted to the History channel, and "Apocalypse/Armageddon" type shows.&lt;br /&gt;9. I want to Marry Bobby Flay&lt;br /&gt;10. I'll take a Dr. Pepper now, Ginormous size! : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-1464424130536202207?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/1464424130536202207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=1464424130536202207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1464424130536202207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1464424130536202207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-1.html' title='Day 1'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b5vG7UkMHWU/TdWwBaiPBgI/AAAAAAAAADA/nuMS6VYVBIQ/s72-c/100_0007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-7385100324659080749</id><published>2010-05-04T22:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T22:34:50.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I too late</title><content type='html'>Now I don't know. . . &lt;br /&gt;Was I wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Are these reservoir feelings&lt;br /&gt;or was it real all along?&lt;br /&gt;I miss your eyes,&lt;br /&gt;the feel of your skin.&lt;br /&gt;His smell's not you,&lt;br /&gt;his smiles not yours.&lt;br /&gt;Was I wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Was I ready?&lt;br /&gt;Am I too late?&lt;br /&gt;Are you gone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-7385100324659080749?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/7385100324659080749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=7385100324659080749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/7385100324659080749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/7385100324659080749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2010/05/am-i-too-late.html' title='Am I too late'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-1718073253190598558</id><published>2010-03-12T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T20:26:19.397-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>The funniest break up ever!!</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been broken up with by someone you were never serious with? Isn't it funny how people infer different things are going on? Communication people!! Stop inferring and start communicating. Trust me, it keeps you from looking like an ass in the long run :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night a guy I've been out with a handful of times came over to my place. We were having a general conversation and I happen to notice he's got "serious face" on. I ask "Why so sad?" his reply. . . "There's something I need to tell you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now stop right there - any girl who has had these 7 words spoken to her knows what was running through my head *enter worse case scenario here*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got, "I really think your more into this than I am." Shut the front door kid! You must be smoking the good weed, cause this one has been dating two other guys at the same time and has YET to start harboring the relationship feelings for any of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I let him finish about how he's not falling in love with me, even though I'm such a great person and good kisser (very talented ;)) But I had to stop him before I started laughing and tell him the truth. . . "Not sure where you got these ideas from Hun, but this is just some casual fun for me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow!!! How awkward right?!? Not to mention, in the middle of all this he said we can still be friends, even friends with benefits!! So funny.&lt;br /&gt;He did stay for about an hour longer, no not to solidify the "benefits" part of our new friendship but just talking. &lt;br /&gt;After he left I couldn't help but think, "Wow this sucks, I just got broken up with before I was even a part of something to break!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else been in on a relationship that wasn't. I just think I have to figure out what signals I'm sending out that make people think I'm sprung over them. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-1718073253190598558?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/1718073253190598558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=1718073253190598558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1718073253190598558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1718073253190598558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2010/03/funniest-break-up-ever.html' title='The funniest break up ever!!'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-820986348078099303</id><published>2010-01-18T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T11:06:39.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Making 2010 My "I DID IT" year.</title><content type='html'>I was reading an article last night, about the power of positive affirmation. &lt;br /&gt;This article talked about not making "resolutions" but promises to yourself, and when the motivation is lacking giving yourself a pep talk and a positive affirmation. &lt;br /&gt;I've never been one for self help books, or the power of positive, but this article really hit me. After all, it is all about me. I make my decisions, I live my life, and the only person who is really affected if I fail is me. So why not make myself proud. Give myself a leg up and fulfill the promises I make to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am making 2010 my "I did it!" year. Im going to do more things for myself. Treat my body better, i.e. losing the weight I got being complacent. Treat my mind better by going back to school and working hard, reading more and TV/Movies less. Treat my pocketbook better, no more splurging on things I don't need, and TRYING to get some savings back. Treat my friends better, by being there when they need, being supportive and opening up to new experiences and people. NO MORE EXCUSES to keep to myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my I did it year. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-820986348078099303?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/820986348078099303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=820986348078099303' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/820986348078099303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/820986348078099303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2010/01/making-2010-my-i-did-it-year.html' title='Making 2010 My &quot;I DID IT&quot; year.'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-2089254852969511035</id><published>2010-01-01T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T01:25:02.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning</title><content type='html'>It's hard to learn that sometimes we're not as strong as we pretend;&lt;br /&gt;That the psyche is easily broken, hearts and hopes crushed to easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard to learn that forgiveness, however admirable, is really just &lt;br /&gt;a second chance to break your spirit, and love is just figment of the &lt;br /&gt;imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its hard learning your not what you always had planned;&lt;br /&gt;that life doesn't follow a blueprint, that dreams are simply that,&lt;br /&gt;and life is really only about living.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-2089254852969511035?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/2089254852969511035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=2089254852969511035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/2089254852969511035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/2089254852969511035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2010/01/learning.html' title='Learning'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-5814841644902259091</id><published>2009-10-15T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:53:02.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on the home front</title><content type='html'>So its been an interesting couple of weeks. Thought I needed a new job, ready to can it all and see about moving back to the country and all those Karma points got cashed in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who are thinking the recession hasn't hit Utah. . . so wrong. Feeling it in the Vet world these days. Because of that work had to cut some hours, and that left me feeling very anxious and sick to my stomach for two weeks. Well as of today I'm going to be okay. All those out there who were worried, and kept me and my struggles in your mind, I love and appreciate it so much, more than you will ever know. I'm not going to say thanks and I don't need the thoughts, but more, keep em' coming. My life will be stable for now, we'll just have to see how the next few weeks pan out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family - I love you! I miss you!&lt;br /&gt;Lynn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-5814841644902259091?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/5814841644902259091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=5814841644902259091' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/5814841644902259091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/5814841644902259091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/10/update-on-home-front.html' title='Update on the home front'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-185816519390594166</id><published>2009-09-28T02:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T02:36:29.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Haunted</title><content type='html'>I wade continuous in my own thoughts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as the sun sleeps on the other side of tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in hours where my body may be tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I am alive in waking dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From outside my lucidity in the fog and shadow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is where your ghost and memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come to haunt me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would anyone believe that here secluded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathe in your smell and see the striking blue within your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my senses numb to all that envelopes me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel your soft fingers grasping onto mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why when the bright morning breaks the silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you fade away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking all I was and leaving me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dead in waking dreams&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-185816519390594166?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/185816519390594166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=185816519390594166' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/185816519390594166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/185816519390594166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/09/haunted.html' title='Haunted'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-7067023019738815148</id><published>2009-09-24T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T23:23:38.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd be me</title><content type='html'>The things we could take back, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Had we known how it would end.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Crushed with the silence of September, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As autumn chilled the spine.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Grasping for reason and searching for truth&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Running away, and hiding from you &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Plans up in smoke &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As the mountains turned to fire&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Unable to breathe and&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lost because I couldn’t see&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So quick to feel and so slow to think&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Heartbreak abounding with sanity unraveling&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anger a summer night, and love the fall&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was easy, and so was I&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Who were we then&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the long nights of whenever&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Foolish children for thinking forever&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dropped tears on gravel and the miles between&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just running away from feeling&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Trying to find what was once me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now we can’t share what’s hidden&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are lies of fine and free&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The things we could take back&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Had we known how it would end&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wouldn’t let you pierce so deep&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And never let you see&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’d be less of us, and more of me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-7067023019738815148?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/7067023019738815148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=7067023019738815148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/7067023019738815148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/7067023019738815148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/09/id-be-me.html' title='I&apos;d be me'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-1105116726921952725</id><published>2009-08-24T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T20:50:40.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Are Snails really THAT bad?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q5arKSQWBoU/SpKypkNE6TI/AAAAAAAAABA/o3Gp1_prB8w/s1600-h/Work+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q5arKSQWBoU/SpKypkNE6TI/AAAAAAAAABA/o3Gp1_prB8w/s320/Work+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373553732569327922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't a usual post for me, but it is a rant so it belongs here. I have a poll for all of you, "Are Snails really &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;THAT&lt;/span&gt; bad?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before you answer let me give you a little information. . . and remember people I see this every day so before you argue with me because I'm not a Veterinarian just a Veterinary Technician,  know that I've been there overnight, with the animal and its not fun to watch. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off I want to give you a name, Metaldehdye. Sounds nasty right, well its the toxic ingredient in most snail baits. Now do you want to hear what it does when your dog gets into it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panting, excessive drooling, vomiting, followed up with seizure, muscle spasm, tachycardia (fast heart rate), respiratory failure and if not treated quickly &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;DEATH&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now also know there is no "antidote" for a Metaldehdye poisoning, just symptomatic care, which is not cheap. Your looking at 2-3 days in the hospital for your pet. Now this isn't your comfortable fluff my pillow, bring my pudding, kind of hospital stay. The last animal I stayed over 2 nights with had muscle spasms &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the entire time&lt;/span&gt;. That's 20 hours of cramping and twitching that your animal is going through. (And remember thats just the time I spent with the dog, there were people there during the day watching this too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night a 16 week old puppy came through our ER, full on seizures, foaming at the mouth, unresponsive to stimuli, all thanks to that wonderful toxin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all love our gardens but is it really worth your best friends life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I ask again, "Are Snails really &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;THAT&lt;/span&gt; bad?" You tell me, and the police dog I watched die a year ago thanks to snail bait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-1105116726921952725?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/1105116726921952725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=1105116726921952725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1105116726921952725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1105116726921952725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/08/are-snails-really-that-bad.html' title='&quot;Are Snails really THAT bad?&quot;'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q5arKSQWBoU/SpKypkNE6TI/AAAAAAAAABA/o3Gp1_prB8w/s72-c/Work+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-555246205568418718</id><published>2009-06-21T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T02:00:32.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drowning sorrow</title><content type='html'>Tonight was hard,&lt;br /&gt;but it felt good to drown you in the water&lt;br /&gt;I said goodbye on the surface,&lt;br /&gt;and felt my heart break deep below&lt;br /&gt;I never had a reason&lt;br /&gt;No answer for the hurt&lt;br /&gt;Silence is not golden,&lt;br /&gt;When someone is left in the wings.&lt;br /&gt;Become the man you were ment to be&lt;br /&gt;Sing to me the truth&lt;br /&gt;Or die, deep withing the waves&lt;br /&gt;Of grief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-555246205568418718?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/555246205568418718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=555246205568418718' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/555246205568418718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/555246205568418718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/06/drowning-sorrow.html' title='Drowning sorrow'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-948650756226717096</id><published>2009-04-30T23:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T23:37:18.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Dreams</title><content type='html'>And now I ask about&lt;br /&gt;Am I enough&lt;br /&gt;for this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is my heart too small&lt;br /&gt;My mind to big&lt;br /&gt;Am I missing just&lt;br /&gt;That something&lt;br /&gt;To make us fit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you unsure&lt;br /&gt;Unsteady in your shoes&lt;br /&gt;Do you need&lt;br /&gt;More time or support&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have to ask&lt;br /&gt;Am I enough&lt;br /&gt;For you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I in your thoughts&lt;br /&gt;At night&lt;br /&gt;do I occupy&lt;br /&gt;too much time&lt;br /&gt;am I more than what you want&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t tell me&lt;br /&gt;That I’m too much for you&lt;br /&gt;That I’m not what you want&lt;br /&gt;That I’m not the only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me sleep&lt;br /&gt;one more night&lt;br /&gt;with this lie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-948650756226717096?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/948650756226717096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=948650756226717096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/948650756226717096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/948650756226717096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/04/sweet-dreams.html' title='Sweet Dreams'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-4782575882592514923</id><published>2009-04-20T23:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T23:57:04.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little rant from work</title><content type='html'>In my line of work I deal with some things that aren't always &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pleasant&lt;/span&gt;. Today I had one such case. A small dog had been bitten by her housemate about a week and a half ago, and the housemate just happens to be a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rottweiler&lt;/span&gt;. Well the owner, who's a medical assistant, used her VAST knowledge of animal medicine to decide that a small bite wound would be okay. Then today calls my clinic claiming its just a small &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hematoma&lt;/span&gt; that needs draining and some antibiotics.&lt;br /&gt;Once we got into surgery for this animal I've never seen such stupid induced &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;destruction&lt;/span&gt;! The leg was dead from the inside out. Not a pretty picture I know, it was disgusting.  We had to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;euthanize&lt;/span&gt; this animal on the table. The sheer extent of what continued care would have been for this leg if not amputation was too much, and cost played a price too, imagine you loosing a limb and no insurance to pay for it.&lt;br /&gt;There is a bright side to this blight of my day. The husband/boyfriend/father, whatever he was, handled the explanation of loosing a pet to his daughter better than any person I have seen. He was supportive, he was caring, he was sensitive, and most important he was honest. Daily I see adults who don't want to tell their children what has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;happened&lt;/span&gt;, or that lucky just isn't coming home. I was moved by this man, in the gravest of circumstances he was star. God bless him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-4782575882592514923?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/4782575882592514923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=4782575882592514923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/4782575882592514923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/4782575882592514923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/04/little-rant-from-work.html' title='A little rant from work'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-6064646648658532758</id><published>2009-04-19T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T00:01:21.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Friend,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dear Friend,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I have this hole in myself. Its been there for just shy of a decade. After the first few years, I didn't feel it anymore, in fact I think I may have filled it with betrayal and hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today I found the past, in a box, in a place I haven't seen in what feels like forever. It was like a dream, and when I woke it was ten years past. Where did all that time go? Why did we let it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There is so much that has happened to me, and to you that is lost to forever. Simple instances that once would have shook the world, and today are nothing but flickers. Memories that weren't made because pride became bigger than us both.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Friend, I've spent to long being angry over the superficial, over the hear-say, over the unimportant, over too much that really never meant enough. I think the first step into not ruining the rest of time is for one of us to say we're sorry and I think I'll start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nights like this one, when I have so much going on, I need you. That person who never thought I could be the person I was, the person I am. I need that person who even in my not so smart, smart moments, understood exactly what I meant. I need that person who looked beyond the whispers, and became friends with the unlikely. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Friend, I am sorry for not making more of an effort. For retreating when I felt jaded. For not opening up to conversation, for pushing you away. After this long, I don't even know if you think of me anymore, but know every time I drive to the past, I think of you. I think of us. I think of the memories stored in that box.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm bigger than that anger, friend. I hope somewhere in your heart, your bigger than it too. I miss you. I miss a friendship that in some other time would never have happened. Too much of who I am, is because of who we were. I don't want to lose that, even a decade later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So, friend, that hole is open, and waiting for you to come home, if its not too late. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My love, my apology,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristalynn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-6064646648658532758?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/6064646648658532758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=6064646648658532758' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/6064646648658532758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/6064646648658532758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-friend.html' title='Dear Friend,'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-8738994035297183947</id><published>2009-01-26T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T16:19:37.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For my family</title><content type='html'>Hey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&gt;!!!   It's almost that time where yours &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; is moving in on her own again. Giving Randi and Mike their own space, and me mine.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be in my new apartment by Feb 3. The big move is happening on the 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;. I'll get you all my new address soon. Just wanted to give you a heads up after Feb 3rd, you won't be able to find me with Fay anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all -&lt;br /&gt;See you soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kristalynn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-8738994035297183947?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/8738994035297183947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=8738994035297183947' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8738994035297183947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8738994035297183947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/01/for-my-family.html' title='For my family'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-8551339121729950858</id><published>2009-01-16T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T00:13:01.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye</title><content type='html'>Heavy pressure upon my chest&lt;br /&gt;and choking on my own missing breath&lt;br /&gt;Pain through my spine&lt;br /&gt;as I drop to my knees&lt;br /&gt;My whole world has come&lt;br /&gt;crashing down upon me&lt;br /&gt;I scream to the heavens&lt;br /&gt;in the silence of the dark&lt;br /&gt;This minute, this moment, this memory&lt;br /&gt;nothing but broken,&lt;br /&gt;agony,&lt;br /&gt;of goodbye&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-8551339121729950858?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/8551339121729950858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=8551339121729950858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8551339121729950858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8551339121729950858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/01/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-1350157208780818833</id><published>2009-01-01T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T18:23:31.348-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>I have never been the kind of person to make resolutions. I don't like to break promises, especially ones to myself. However, this year I have decided to make some resolutions that I think I can keep.&lt;br /&gt;My resolution is to remember who I was. I have changed so much because of bitterness over the last few years, that I have lost who I was. I was fun, out-going, and not afraid meeting people. What happened? I have no idea, but im planning on getting back to who I was.&lt;br /&gt;This year i'm moving back in to an apartment with myself, I think thats the first start.&lt;br /&gt;Living with my sister has been great, we became best friends, but somedays I feel its at the point if I don't leave we won't be talking. Just a feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I do really well on my own, so I think that will be the first step in reclaiming myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its not a long list of things to change, but in the long run, its a lot more than most people think&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-1350157208780818833?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/1350157208780818833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=1350157208780818833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1350157208780818833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/1350157208780818833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-6605138363577778304</id><published>2008-12-18T00:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T00:23:57.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Im good with being single</title><content type='html'>So I have had a conversation with a few people lately on why I have given up on Love and wanted to share it.&lt;br /&gt;I would really like to be one of those people who does well in a relationship. Someone like my parents who have made it 30+ years together, but I just don't see that for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pessimist&lt;/span&gt; when it comes to Love, I prefer the term realist.  Just taking a cross section of my friends (and there is no judgements being made just observations)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1-Best friend from college, moved to another state and lived with her boyfriend, had issues had to move out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2-Sorority sister, I was a brides maid at her wedding less then 2 years in and shes divorced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3-My own sister dated and lived with her boyfriend for 3 years before getting married, less than&lt;br /&gt;2 years into that one, divorced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-One of my favorite girls cousins from my dads side. Married and divorced with two kids before the age of 25.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5-Friend at work comes home early one night, after (i think) 5 years of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;marriage&lt;/span&gt; HES IN BED WITH ANOTHER WOMAN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on, but let me ask you this -&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to try for a relationship, when all you see around you are people who claim their in love, but yet that love isn't strong enough to last more than a few years? Is it just society that makes us so anxious for something new? Are we jumping to fast into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;commitments&lt;/span&gt; we can't really make?&lt;br /&gt;I just don't wanna chance my sanity on that. I want to be happy, I want a life that means something, but what I don't want is to waist my time on some fabrication of what LOVE has become.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-6605138363577778304?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/6605138363577778304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=6605138363577778304' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/6605138363577778304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/6605138363577778304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-good-with-being-single.html' title='Im good with being single'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-7472534574835987963</id><published>2008-12-18T00:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T00:14:09.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its just that time of the year. . .</title><content type='html'>So a lot of my friends and family have been asking me lately. . ."whats with the attitude? whats wrong everything okay?"  Well my answer, "its just that time of the year."&lt;br /&gt;I've never been one for the holidays, even as a kid waking up at 4 am to see what Santa had brought me wasn't at the top of my list or even encroaching on the top 20. But sure enough year after year my sister would come wake me so we could sneak in the living room together.  I love gift giving, and gift receiving don't get me wrong, but there is just something else about this time of year that really chaps my a$$.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does everything have to be a date event?  Thanksgiving with the family we all go to my grandmothers house everyone shows up, all my cousins with their kids, my sisters family with her teenagers and husband, my brother and his wife with their son (who just happens to be the cutest baby in Utah - no joke he won the award from a magazine) then enter my last sister and her boyfriend.  No one says anything but the looks are all there. . . "Wheres Lynn's boyfriend?" ***Lynn doesn't have a boyfriend, hasn't since early spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright fast forward, its Christmas time, I live in Salt Lake. My sister is in love with the lights at temple square and wants to go see them, but wait, "Who ya gonna ask to go Lynn?"&lt;br /&gt;*** No one. . haven't been on a date since early spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New years - thank god I have to work, I could see this happening just they same way not only my family but all my friends, we get together do the ball drop, and then the awkward, "Who's Lynn with?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-7472534574835987963?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/7472534574835987963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=7472534574835987963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/7472534574835987963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/7472534574835987963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-just-that-time-of-year.html' title='Its just that time of the year. . .'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-8757255659924834534</id><published>2008-12-08T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:54:32.579-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One more I really like</title><content type='html'>~The Best Book Never Read~ 2004&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its not just the broken heart that hurts&lt;br /&gt;there's the disapointment hidden in their eyes,&lt;br /&gt;a constant echo of critisism ringing in my ears&lt;br /&gt;and even more cuts to make the lows out weigh the highs&lt;br /&gt;so much pain in the continual tears&lt;br /&gt;the melancholy blue pool&lt;br /&gt;surrounding a large black hole&lt;br /&gt;is no longer a window&lt;br /&gt;but a place to begin building up the wall&lt;br /&gt;its somewhere I can hide secrets&lt;br /&gt;no one should know&lt;br /&gt;to eager to love someone,&lt;br /&gt;to hold up my gaurd&lt;br /&gt;all to soon at putting the lies aside&lt;br /&gt;I was ready to pretend my heart still existed&lt;br /&gt;to put back together my shattered pride&lt;br /&gt;It's continually on my mind&lt;br /&gt;as to why its always me whos not good enough&lt;br /&gt;and when oposing views are layed out&lt;br /&gt;I cant muster the courage to rebuff&lt;br /&gt;Im guilty for all the encouraging lies&lt;br /&gt;the ones that say "thats fine," or "im okay,"&lt;br /&gt;should i tell them?&lt;br /&gt;because its been so long with me hiding&lt;br /&gt;all i never dared to say its all over-&lt;br /&gt;the perfect relationship with my imagination&lt;br /&gt;there will be no happy ending&lt;br /&gt;for the best book never read&lt;br /&gt;but instead will end with a broken heart,&lt;br /&gt;shattered pride&lt;br /&gt;and one less lover left alive&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-8757255659924834534?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/8757255659924834534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=8757255659924834534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8757255659924834534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8757255659924834534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/12/best-book-never-read-2004-its-not-just.html' title='One more I really like'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-8577474720947350238</id><published>2008-12-08T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T02:35:42.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For your reading enjoyment</title><content type='html'>~Devil in My Head~ 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a demon that breeds during the darkness&lt;br /&gt;A spawn of the witching hour,&lt;br /&gt;breathing life into its paranoia lungs&lt;br /&gt;bleeding fear that pools behind blood shot eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Becoming a corpse, a remnant of a once vibrant host.&lt;br /&gt;Small noises become voices,&lt;br /&gt;echo's playing hide and seek.&lt;br /&gt;Footsteps in barren hallways&lt;br /&gt;and doors that open with no force. . .&lt;br /&gt;The demon's here&lt;br /&gt;in the dark. . .&lt;br /&gt;faceless, haunting, captivating.&lt;br /&gt;And spewing dementia&lt;br /&gt;forcing torture on a tireless prisoner.&lt;br /&gt;Call out it's name, face its terror&lt;br /&gt;or run once, and insomnia will follow you&lt;br /&gt;forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~White Noise~ 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I need is to drown out the white noise in life.&lt;br /&gt;The constant echo behind my eyes,&lt;br /&gt;Laying in the in-between of what was once,&lt;br /&gt;a completely different something&lt;br /&gt;Life and love, hate and lust are all but blurred inside my ears&lt;br /&gt;A reflective glare, of a brightly imprinted, colored past&lt;br /&gt;The ghosts inside my room, haunting my walls&lt;br /&gt;And an empty pillow where sleep no longer stays&lt;br /&gt;Ever waking, and walking. Pacing the hallway&lt;br /&gt;That echo in my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Fighting its way out with every painful tear&lt;br /&gt;I want no longer to be confined inside the walls I have always known&lt;br /&gt;To break free will I do whats expected, or go further than myself&lt;br /&gt;Along this path, carved in flesh and carpet&lt;br /&gt;Can I find a hymn to help cover the sound&lt;br /&gt;Constantly there, eternally sounding&lt;br /&gt;The white noises, all the crazy, all lonely, all the everything my life has become&lt;br /&gt;What I need is something, that point just passed the second star&lt;br /&gt;My own eternal never-land,&lt;br /&gt;where I don't have to move on&lt;br /&gt;where I can just be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~The Long Drive~ 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the long drive today&lt;br /&gt;Out to the lake&lt;br /&gt;I watched the whitecaps break&lt;br /&gt;As the wind tossed the water&lt;br /&gt;The green inland sea&lt;br /&gt;Fought hard as is was thrown&lt;br /&gt;By the rain that beat it&lt;br /&gt;Oh so violently&lt;br /&gt;My mind feels Just that way&lt;br /&gt;Being tossed and beaten&lt;br /&gt;As I contemplate today&lt;br /&gt;Where do I go&lt;br /&gt;When childhood is over&lt;br /&gt;Do I run like the water&lt;br /&gt;Or do I stand firm&lt;br /&gt;As the rocks it lands upon&lt;br /&gt;I'm free as the wind&lt;br /&gt;That pushes the waves&lt;br /&gt;And as careless&lt;br /&gt;As the breaking caps&lt;br /&gt;Lost between here and there&lt;br /&gt;No shore to anchor my direction&lt;br /&gt;Does my future start&lt;br /&gt;When the rain stops&lt;br /&gt;And I'm left As the lake at rest&lt;br /&gt;Ill just stay here&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for sunset&lt;br /&gt;As the tide tucks in the beach&lt;br /&gt;Leave my confusion&lt;br /&gt;Leave my frustration&lt;br /&gt;To all to sink within the inland sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Broken~ 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a broken child now hangs her head&lt;br /&gt;with a mind so full of his memory&lt;br /&gt;shes tried so hard to forget&lt;br /&gt;the endless days of summer&lt;br /&gt;they spent enveloped in each other&lt;br /&gt;have passed away to cold mornings&lt;br /&gt;of a long awaited winter&lt;br /&gt;at night she dreams&lt;br /&gt;splint glances at a fraudulent past&lt;br /&gt;and awakes to the daily reality&lt;br /&gt;of a childhood taken much to fast&lt;br /&gt;to tearful regret she writes&lt;br /&gt;wanting to push it behind her&lt;br /&gt;no comforting words can she find&lt;br /&gt;in writing the heart that deceived her&lt;br /&gt;through the sand of hours&lt;br /&gt;time will pass away&lt;br /&gt;with each moment that turns&lt;br /&gt;a comeback of faith also may&lt;br /&gt;with searching tears she'll find her answer&lt;br /&gt;and prayerful hands shall bring her closer&lt;br /&gt;hes out there doing just the same she knows&lt;br /&gt;finding condolence&lt;br /&gt;and learning to grow&lt;br /&gt;although it haunts them both with increasing power&lt;br /&gt;to overcome it,&lt;br /&gt;that will be&lt;br /&gt;faith and diligence' finest hour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~You and Me~ 2005&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was as i sat on the shore&lt;br /&gt;watching the sun be put to sleep&lt;br /&gt;that i thought of the dreams&lt;br /&gt;the ones i no longer have&lt;br /&gt;the ones of you and me&lt;br /&gt;they were blurred&lt;br /&gt;only bits and pieces&lt;br /&gt;the happy moments spent between&lt;br /&gt;the hurt you caused me&lt;br /&gt;i laid on my back as the sky went black&lt;br /&gt;trying to erase them all&lt;br /&gt;the future and the plans&lt;br /&gt;the ones of you and me&lt;br /&gt;i shut my eyes and cried the tear's&lt;br /&gt;felt the pain as my heart broke to pieces&lt;br /&gt;for the lies you always told me&lt;br /&gt;one last dream&lt;br /&gt;one last thought&lt;br /&gt;one last lie&lt;br /&gt;one last moment&lt;br /&gt;no more you and me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-8577474720947350238?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/8577474720947350238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=8577474720947350238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8577474720947350238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/8577474720947350238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/12/for-your-reading-enjoyment.html' title='For your reading enjoyment'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-6004773230277645517</id><published>2008-12-08T21:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:29:00.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Really bad at this</title><content type='html'>If there is anything I have come to realize, its that I am a horrible blogger. For someone so talkative as me it's surprizing. But something I do enjoy (which I have no idea if im good at) is writing my little blurbs of what I call poetry. . . so im going to post a back log of some of my work. . .just to see what response I get from people, cause i'd really like to know what you all think. So next post in a few minutes will be some of my original work. . . you all enjoy it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-6004773230277645517?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/6004773230277645517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=6004773230277645517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/6004773230277645517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/6004773230277645517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/12/really-bad-at-this.html' title='Really bad at this'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-733391859422749580</id><published>2008-11-06T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T23:19:07.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The religion question. . .</title><content type='html'>Growing up was easy for me. I did what everyone expected. I was who the community brought me up to be. I changed as I grew up, because I grew away. I started making my own decisions, taking care of the consequences and not regretting one moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was born into an LDS family, not the hard core my ways the only way type. More laid back, but still my parents wanted us to go to church. I did, and as I got older church just didn't fit.  I stopped going in high school, not because I didn't agree with the teachings or because I was doing wrong. I just fell away.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a bad person because I don't practice my religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may wonder why this topic, but it because I find it hard to relate what I'm feeling to people who are active. They ask why I still call myself LDS, and what I did that makes me not want to go to church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want them to know, just because I don't sit in sacrament with you, and help hold the hymn book doesn't mean I don't believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been many times in my life where I felt protected, and watched over by something more than this world. That ever calm that surround the hardest storms is there and I can't deny that, and I wont.  I have faith, what I lack is the practice of my religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So quit judging people. Stop making them fell less of themselves for not being you. Understand that some show love in other ways, that good people come from all walks of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-733391859422749580?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/733391859422749580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=733391859422749580' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/733391859422749580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/733391859422749580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/11/religion-question.html' title='The religion question. . .'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8029281684072620998.post-2678463283314111177</id><published>2008-11-06T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T23:25:23.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>#1 - For Fay</title><content type='html'>11-6-08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a book recently about love and losing that love. The writer was an editor for Rolling Stone magazine, and that book &lt;em&gt;Love is a Mix Tape :Life and Loss One Song at a Time,&lt;/em&gt; got me thinking about the songs that fule my life. And what thoughts and emotions they envoke.&lt;br /&gt;Most people who spend time with me will tell you I love music. I spend a lot of my time listening to, talking about, and singing along to all different types of music. So I thought for this my virgin trip into blogging I would share with you my current "mix tape", the songs that are pulsing through my veins and what my mind hears as the melody runs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Unhappy - Thriving Ivory&lt;br /&gt;- - - - &gt; How many times do we pretend things are fine? Thats a word I know I use a lot. When people ask how im doing even if I'm not, "Fine" is the response they get. I seen this same thing from a lot of people. Are we scared to tell the truth? Does the person asking really want to know? Is this why we hide behind "fine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Where We Gonna Go From Here - Mat Kearney&lt;br /&gt;- - - - &gt; Life hits a stand still for a lot of people, and I know for me relationships hit that standing water faster than anything else. I end up getting to a point quickly where I think "Really? is this all its supposed to be? Should this mean more? Where do we go from here?" This might be why I'm single, but it also might be what saves me from something that shouldn't be happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Boston - Augustana&lt;br /&gt;- - - -&gt; First off I have to say this is one of the best bands to see live. If you get the chance, get as close to the stage as you can and just enjoy!!!&lt;br /&gt;I've lived in the city for just over 3 years now, and some nights there is nothing I want more than to just pack up and leave. I feel there is nothing here for me, sure I have a great job, but what do I do when I'm not at that job? Nothing. The city has nothing to offer me. Thats when&lt;em&gt; "I think I'll start a new life, I think I'll start it over where no one knows my name."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Feel This - Enation&lt;br /&gt;- - - - &gt; Do you ever just wish you could be completely honest with everyone. Scream from the top of your lungs whats going on with you, and everyone would just automatically understand? If your wondering what I'm talking about, listen to the song, it just gives this pulse this fire, I can't explain it. A good version of the song also is by Bethany Joy Galeotti featuring Enation (her husband is in the band) it so powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Friend to a Stranger - Emerson Hart&lt;br /&gt;- - - - &gt; Ever feel like people in your life just melt away. There are so many people I miss with all my heart, but it doesn't seem that they feel the same way? Is it a by product of growing up? Did we really mean that much to each other to begin with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to hear feedback on my ranting. . . catch ya in the waking hours.&lt;br /&gt;-Kristalynn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8029281684072620998-2678463283314111177?l=insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/feeds/2678463283314111177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8029281684072620998&amp;postID=2678463283314111177' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/2678463283314111177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8029281684072620998/posts/default/2678463283314111177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://insomniarants-kristalynn.blogspot.com/2008/11/1-for-fay.html' title='#1 - For Fay'/><author><name>Kristalynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00542561443883043262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7tOcba5gaE/TdWtXN3goWI/AAAAAAAAACg/Ko2Wlq1DRy0/s220/100_0069.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
