tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10315684690671692032024-03-05T08:43:49.264-06:00Another Blog from DanielleDaniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.comBlogger1229125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-48709829226661036462018-09-07T10:49:00.002-05:002018-09-07T10:49:36.389-05:00Fall 2018 Shopping I'm on a shopping hiatus right now (important note - not a <i>spending</i> hiatus, though I should be doing that), but here is what I find myself pining over for Fall 2018:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>A black jumpsuit I can wear to work (related: why do they all have wide legs or weird cutouts?!)</li>
<li>high-waisted, button-fly skinny jeans</li>
<li>jeans with some tastefully placed wear and tear </li>
<li>camo-print Rothys </li>
<li>vertical-striped button down</li>
<li>new flannel</li>
<li>a new, lightweight black windbreaker</li>
<li>a tan, button-front skirt in corduroy, suede or khaki </li>
</ul>
<div>
And, not new, but to make me feel brand-new:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>dry-cleaned coats, ready for wintry weather</li>
<li>resized Grandma's engagement ring so I can wear it daily</li>
</ul>
</div>
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<br /></div>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-19636591517231373262018-06-26T15:15:00.001-05:002018-06-26T15:15:35.773-05:00Let's just recap the day, shall we? Let's just recap the day, shall we?<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Barely slept due to crazy storms last night + a 60lb, 12 y/o dog that's afriad of said storms and was basically laying on top of me (on the bright side, snuggles with Mav are a rare treat these days. So, no regrets.) </li>
<li>Didn't get into work early, like I had planned. </li>
<li>Didn't get as much done this morning as I had planned. </li>
<li>Six sets of design feedback, in three email threads and Dropbox comments. And designers waiting on <i>me</i> to go compile it all. No problem! [sarcasm]</li>
<li>Maverick pooped in my car on the way to the groomer's. </li>
<li>McDonald's milkshake machine was "broken" [eye roll]</li>
<li>McDonald's gave me honey mustard instead of honey (ugh!)</li>
<li>People skipping softball because "work is stressful"... Oh, really? No idea what's that like. </li>
<li>Thought the groomer's was open til 6pm. Nope, closing early today and had to leave work a second time to go pick him up. </li>
<li>Construction. </li>
<li>Rain. </li>
<li>Construction. </li>
<li>Rain. </li>
<li>The bright side of the rain is that maybe softball will be cancelled? Fingers crossed. </li>
<li>Surprise 6-hour meeting later this week. That won't mess up my schedule or give me anxiety<i> at all</i>. </li>
<li>Surprise 6-hour meeting was originally Wednesday. So I cancelled late breakfast/early lunch with dear friends from college. I was very upset about this. Now surprise 6-hour meeting is on Friday (ugh!) but I'm worried I'm too busy to be back on for lunch anyway.</li>
</ul>
<div>
LIFE MAN. </div>
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<br /></div>
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(And no, this doesn't account for other, more <i>personal</i> life matters that are equally as pressing and anxiety causing.) </div>
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<br /></div>
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(Yes, even more personal and pressing than my dog pooping in the back seat of my car.)</div>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-3259882874650523302017-07-14T14:18:00.003-05:002017-07-14T14:21:04.273-05:00I have a journal with weekly prompts/lists. A while back it asked about my hopes/dreams/plans for the future, and one of the things I wrote that I wanted was to fall in love again.<br />
<br />
Lately, I've been thinking that I'd also like to fall <i>out</i> of love again. I know it seems crazy to <i>hope</i> for heartbreak -- especially knowing how grueling it was the last time. But (a.) if I'm heartbroken again it means I truly loved again. And even more than that, it takes all the power away from the first heartbreak.<br />
<br />
Was listening to <a href="http://www.whyohwhyradio.com/dont-listen-if-youre-my-ex/" target="_blank">this episode of Why Oh Why</a> and that's what got me thinking about the power that our great loves have over us -- our first loves, true loves, deep loves, long lost loves, forbidden loves, whatever they may be. That we continue to pine for loves that maybe, had they lasted, <i>wouldn't</i> have been so great after all.Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-20339234614854391042017-07-14T11:16:00.002-05:002017-07-14T11:16:38.314-05:00From "Smartphones Are the New Cigarettes"From <a href="https://markmanson.net/smartphones">"Smartphones Are the New Cigarettes" by Mark Manson </a><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“Is there really nothing in your life that can’t wait 30 minutes? Or are you curing cancer or something?”... </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If you think about it, our attention is the only thing we truly own in our lives. Our possessions can go away. Our bodies can be compromised. Our relationships can fall apart. Even our memories and intellectual capacity fade away.
But the simple ability to choose what to focus on — that will always be ours.
Unfortunately, with today’s technology, our attention is being pulled in more directions than ever before, which makes this optioning of our own attention more difficult — and more important — than ever before... </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I would say that our ability to focus and hone our attention on what we need is a core component of living a happy, healthy life. We’ve all had those days or weeks (or months or years) where we’ve felt scatterbrained — out of control of our own reality, constantly sucked down rabbit holes of pointless information and drama comprised of endless clicks and notifications... </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
It’s attention pollution when somebody else’s inability to focus or control themselves then interferes with the attention and focus of those around them... It’s why we get annoyed at dinner when someone starts texting in front of us. It’s why we get pissed off when someone pulls their phone out in a movie theater. It’s why we become irritated when someone is checking their email instead of watching the ballgame. Their inability to focus interferes with our (already-fragile) ability to focus. The same way second-hand smoke harms the lungs of people around the smoker, smartphones harm the attention and focus of people around the smartphone user... </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I’ve noticed that as the years go on, it’s becoming harder for me to sit down and write an article like this than it was three or four years ago. And it’s not just that the amount of available distractions have compounded over the years, it’s that my ability to resist those distractions seems to have worn down to the point where I often don’t feel in control of my own attention anymore.
And this kind of freaks me out. It’s not that I resent the woman at the gym who can’t go 10 minutes without checking her messages. I resent that I am becoming that person at the gym who can’t go 10 minutes without checking his messages... </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I’ve noticed friends who can no longer sit through entire movies (or even episodes of a TV show) without pulling out their phones multiple times in the middle of it. People who can’t make it through a meal without putting the phone next to their plate.</blockquote>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-74400077928541349632017-04-19T12:42:00.002-05:002017-04-19T12:42:21.995-05:00How do I keep feeling that feeling?As I was driving through Tower grove Park on my way home from softball "practice" last night [to be clear – we did not practice. We stood around drinking Busch for 2 hours.], I realized I was <i>so happy</i>. So content. So calm. So carefree.<br />
<br />
How do I keep feeling that feeling?<br />
How do I make that feeling into a living?<br />
<br />Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-88339524117313915342016-10-14T16:43:00.004-05:002016-10-14T16:43:59.575-05:00I think it's timeTo start blogging again.<br />
<br />
In other news, not much has changed since my last post in August. Cool.Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-77809228341044635342016-08-03T15:04:00.002-05:002016-08-03T15:04:31.760-05:00Pity PartyShit day(s) at work.<br />
Messy house.<br />
Weekend plans ruined.<br />
Sad lunch.<br />
Ripped the zipper on the dress I spent weeks picking out for this wedding moments after tearing the tag off of it.<br />
Car is about to break down.<br />
Lost my license.<br />
Need to go to the bank, the DMV, the doctor, the dentist, the vet.<br />
Tree in my front yard is falling down and landlord hasn't fixed it.<br />
DVR is piling up.<br />
Softball was cancelled.<br />
No wedding date.<br />
Bad dog mom.<br />
Computer says it is out of space even though I have deleted literally every file off of it.<br />
<b>In over my head. </b><br />
<b>Send help. </b>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-67228625761122063352016-05-01T17:05:00.003-05:002016-05-01T17:05:38.340-05:00Cares Will Drop Off Like Autumn Leaves<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
– John Muir, <i>Our National Parks</i></blockquote>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-45489031154165791592016-02-02T10:03:00.001-06:002016-02-02T10:03:32.330-06:00Like MeLikable people aren’t afraid to ask questions, such as “How can I help” or “What do you think?”<br />
<br />
Likable people are inclusive; no matter where they are or what they’re doing, they find a way to include others who seem a bit out of place or could use a friend.<br />
<br />
Likable people know when, and when not, to talk during meetings—especially when they are talking solely for the sake of hearing their own voice.<br />
<br />
Likable people help out newbies, even new bosses who are still adjusting to being the head honcho.<br />
<br />
Likable people apply their seemingly unrelated life skills to work.<br />
<br />
Likable people know just what to say at the right time (the most important phrase being “Thank you!”).<br />
<br />
Likable people do little acts of kindness every day—all of which are super easy to work into your routine.<br />
<br />
Likable people are emotionally intelligent—which means they’re not only aware of their own emotions, but sensitive to other people’s as well.<br />
<br />
Likable people have better things to say than “Don’t worry” when another person is upset.<br />
<br />
Likable people know how to politely shut down negative people.<br />
<br />
Likable people also know how to give criticism without sounding condescending.<br />
Finally, likable people know when it’s appropriate to be the “cool guy,” and when to be a strong leader.<br />
<br />
From <i><a href="https://www.themuse.com/advice/12-ways-to-become-a-more-likable-person-at-workstarting-right-now?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=fastcompany-facebook" target="_blank">12 Ways to Become a More Likable Person at Work—Starting Right Now</a></i><br />
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<br /></div>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-49782154177603290912016-01-14T09:57:00.003-06:002016-01-14T09:57:49.201-06:00Divine Play<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ajMteV7ZtBmepslfeNmN3Gh8mlqOVhytk1KjPtSp7RNtISnFdd9S-uoYh2AlnyjfUJ6ZNHHzfDGVvtARzxY7v1cgzvR1FsmUB0STAVgV7qr_eY1qvdw5qPSFlKnKkBJ71bqJsMJ80kBx/s1600/IMG_5217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ajMteV7ZtBmepslfeNmN3Gh8mlqOVhytk1KjPtSp7RNtISnFdd9S-uoYh2AlnyjfUJ6ZNHHzfDGVvtARzxY7v1cgzvR1FsmUB0STAVgV7qr_eY1qvdw5qPSFlKnKkBJ71bqJsMJ80kBx/s400/IMG_5217.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Last night, our yoga teacher started class by talking about lila.<br />
<br />
Lila (pronounced "layla," I believe) is the Sanskrit word for <i>divine play</i>. Sure, yoga has a lot to do with perfection – the perfect pose, the perfect alignment. But it should also be fun.<br />
<br />
A practice focused on divine play is just that. It's not about comparing yourself to the person next to you, or beating yourself up because you are falling out of a pose*. It's accepting where you are now and being okay with it. And furthermore – having <i>fun</i> with it.<br />
<br />
That's a nice reminder for life too, isn't it? Sure, we should be striving to be better and looking to the future... but that can be exhausting. At least, that's what I've found. Comparing ourselves to others. Worrying we're not good enough. Wondering if we're on the right track. Second guessing. Feeling inadequate.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Being present</i> is an intention I've had for myself for quite a while. I've probably written that phrase here more than a few times. But being reminded of that last night – after a tough week at work, feelings of inadequacy personally and professionally, a birthday weekend spent with my couch and DVR and overall just <i>meh</i> feelings lately – was refreshing.<br />
<br />
Stop obsessing over where you could be or should be. <br />
Look at where you are. Be grateful. Enjoy it. Have fun.<br />
<br />
<i>* To be fair, I did beat myself up for not getting the headstand last night.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>** The picture is from my PNW trip (which I swear I'll blog about someday...). We were in Vancouver for just one day, and I was having regrets over not doing enough research on the city and worried we weren't making the most of our time there (as well as anxiety over getting lost, as my cell phone had limited map/calling functions). But Melanie asked a server for a neighborhood and bar recommendation, and we ended up spending the afternoon in Gastown buying too many Canada souvenirs. We stopped at this swanky bar, Chill Winston, even though I'm pretty sure we were both in yoga pants. We sat outside on the patio, even though it was probably too cold for patio weather and it was </i>empty<i> – they weren't even playing any music out there. We turned on a jazz Pandora station, ordered wine and champagne (because, why not!) and people watched under string lights as the sun went down in the city. It was a glorious, unexpected, unplanned evening. </i>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-87097598271489903462016-01-11T09:23:00.002-06:002016-01-11T09:23:30.975-06:00One of Those MondaysAnnoyances, in no particular order:<br />
<br />
car<br />
hair<br />
dog<br />
to do list<br />
wadrobe<br />
messy house<br />
other drivers<br />
no creamer for my coffee<br />
hair, worth repeating<br />
temperature<br />
back<br />
clicky shoes<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-11526294270947135122016-01-10T15:32:00.002-06:002016-01-10T15:32:33.170-06:00Overpromised + A ListSo I overpromised with that everyday thing. I blaming it on the fact that I don't bring my laptop home most nights – leaving me desktopless. Let's try once a week instead....<br />
<br />
I think one of the reasons blogging has become so difficult for me is that it's intimidating. I have old folders and bookmarks with "content" to blog about, but somewhere along the way, got over the idea of referring to my life as content. So, the lists kept building. Vacations. Screenshots. Hairstyles. Clothes. Interior Decorating. Thoughts. Feelings. Fears.<br />
<br />
I feared that when I opened blogger, I would need to spend hours and hours catching you up. (And who is YOU anyway?) So maybe, I just won't. Maybe, I'll stop obsessing over what I forgot to blog about it and just record it when I have time or feel like it. (And whoever YOU is, I understand this makes for a terrible reading experience for you. Apologies.)<br />
<br />
I heard on a <a href="http://www.wnyc.org/story/neuroscientists-guide-getting-organized-plus-survey/" target="_blank">podcast</a> that to keep yourself more present (and <i>sane</i>), you should make lists. It sounds obvious, yes, but it helps to get it out of your head and clear your mind of having to store/remember it.<br />
<br />
So, in lieu of actually writing about all these things right now, here is a list of things to (or to not be) shared at a later date.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>My PNW trip, of course</li>
<li>My holiday decorations, which were, IMO, on point this year. </li>
<li>All the fun things I did over the holidays – Brewery Lights, Garden Glow, hours and hours and hours of Hallmark movies</li>
<li>"Couple Privilege"</li>
<li>Hot dads and why I love them even though I don't know if I want kids </li>
<li>Favorite Plated meals lately</li>
<li>To the cute moms in ponytails at the playground, I'm secretly jealous of you</li>
<li>Travel plans for 2016/17</li>
<li>Home decor plans for this year</li>
<li>2016 being the year of the new car... maybe</li>
<li>Why online dating is the worst (especially when you're not really all in)</li>
<li>Why NYE is the worst</li>
<li>Why birthdays are the worst</li>
<li>How adult dating is difficult (and people who last dated in high school / college / early 20s trying to give you advice is the WORST)</li>
<li>On being an aunt</li>
<li>On what I'm looking forward to in the coming months</li>
<li>On not trying to live a curated life</li>
</ul>
<div>
I'm going to be honest. Halfway through this, I looked at this list and was like... I am not publishing that. Or I am going to publish it and delete it in an hour. I have definitely written more personal things than this silly list.... but something about it felt, not only personal, but half hazard and not well thought out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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And then I remembered the last goal I added into my 52 Lists goals for this year – <b>Don't live a curated life</b>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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That in part, was what drove me away from blogging to begin with and seemed silly to censor myself now, having that goal in the back of my mind. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, publish. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-70114773111886344092016-01-04T22:10:00.001-06:002016-01-04T22:10:54.294-06:00Smile MoreOne of the goals I wrote for myself in the #52listsproject was to smile more. Tonight in yoga, we took deep breaths at the beginning of class, as usual. But Candace then asks us to smile, just slightly, and feel the difference if made. <div><br></div><div>I felt it. <br><div><br></div><div>😌</div></div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-44651963723286005392016-01-04T21:58:00.000-06:002016-01-04T21:58:05.493-06:00Not For You. For Me. In my head, I've written this post over and over.<br />
<br />
And yet, confronted with the blank page, I can't remember how it starts or why I was even writing it to begin with.<br />
<br />
I've neglected this blog. Obviously. You know that. I know that. I went on the trip I've been planning for years and I didn't even post a picture.<br />
<br />
I need to slow down. To record.<br />
<br />
I need to think. To write.<br />
<br />
So, this is that. A poor start, I know. But I'm going to try to write here everyday. It won't be good. It will probably be boring. But it's not for you. It's for me. (Selfish, sorry.)<br />
<br />
Call it a Resolution, but in my <a href="http://www.moorea-seal.com/p/52-lists.html" target="_blank">52 Lists</a> that I started this morning I said that I wanted to write more. And recently, I found myself voice-recording a few more subjects for that silly book I thought about writing last summer. I'm in my head a lot; I need to get it down on paper. Or digital paper, at least.<br />
<br />
Basically, expect to see more of the '<i>rant</i>' label in the coming days/weeks.<br />
<br />
<br />Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-67471700077169336902015-11-21T23:09:00.001-06:002015-11-21T23:09:16.609-06:00You Know What's FunSpending a whole day with couples, to start. <div><br></div><div>And then overhearing them discuss a couples' white elephant holiday gift exchange... That you obviously weren't included in / can't participate in because you're not part of a couple. </div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-72017017127628447052015-11-08T13:47:00.001-06:002015-11-08T13:47:28.829-06:00Priorities For NovemberCook. <div>Clean. </div><div>Christmas decorations. </div><div>Yoga. </div><div><br></div><div>And TV. Always TV. </div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-44606706142027850222015-10-16T15:05:00.002-05:002015-10-16T15:05:20.044-05:00Current Status: AnnoyedAt everything and everyone.Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-23995240750826176782015-10-13T21:38:00.001-05:002015-10-13T21:38:02.177-05:00StillMost nights, I still reach for the light on the left side of the kitchen doorway. Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-27945504226586509922015-10-13T12:05:00.001-05:002015-10-13T12:05:30.650-05:00On ChalkboardsMy yoga instructor opened our practice with a thought on chalkboards.<br />
<br />
After you write on a chalkboard and try to erase it, it's still there. You can still see some remnants of what was written. And even after you go over it again, maybe you can't read exactly what was written, but you know something was.<br />
<br />
Writing and erasing and writing and erasing. You aren't ever really erasing, you are just adding new layers.<br />
<br />
Erase, and write anew. Build new layers.Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-41405039414082147222015-10-12T17:06:00.001-05:002015-10-12T17:06:21.667-05:00Halloween Inspiration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNF2CMthSh75vYS35SutAd-wEQtrLCw-fDEMYoAV4Hl2bwCCQPD2HF-bD9K9lY9_bKBH-OeocwqMpgNst7WDK-8zySWi-OEGxdHGG2vdkK1cyreVWS3v1gYggDbL275WazQOIJSQoitYR/s1600/ss11-ThelmaAndLouise3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNF2CMthSh75vYS35SutAd-wEQtrLCw-fDEMYoAV4Hl2bwCCQPD2HF-bD9K9lY9_bKBH-OeocwqMpgNst7WDK-8zySWi-OEGxdHGG2vdkK1cyreVWS3v1gYggDbL275WazQOIJSQoitYR/s400/ss11-ThelmaAndLouise3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-58133410759539619712015-10-04T12:16:00.001-05:002015-10-04T12:16:42.651-05:00PNW Packing Inspo<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZ0GhgvdjupjhBwN1JRudP__z1_YBjd7_MM3xy6aqVXkKblG-pX7pLrOuDuts4VM52lqDJscu-AUdyRURwjGlVUYobqKOFLBzxz0LgGGEJTYny92awRvjOU9-ywcCLt2Hwo1ZFoyIrKM0/s640/blogger-image-375697690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZ0GhgvdjupjhBwN1JRudP__z1_YBjd7_MM3xy6aqVXkKblG-pX7pLrOuDuts4VM52lqDJscu-AUdyRURwjGlVUYobqKOFLBzxz0LgGGEJTYny92awRvjOU9-ywcCLt2Hwo1ZFoyIrKM0/s640/blogger-image-375697690.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZ0GhgvdjupjhBwN1JRudP__z1_YBjd7_MM3xy6aqVXkKblG-pX7pLrOuDuts4VM52lqDJscu-AUdyRURwjGlVUYobqKOFLBzxz0LgGGEJTYny92awRvjOU9-ywcCLt2Hwo1ZFoyIrKM0/s640/blogger-image-375697690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOn76Tke3lT8s2v-DDraQVYgQ2w0jHT4ILYO0A7dgOdF2JKiYJm1FIwgpMALczgsgL8MR-PDIe98XUJ60UomOikMIO_WonEenPIuSk5praFtg1piKd9bEe6WQ9lmYluP7gf6GorMihmXuj/s640/blogger-image--1847213383.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOn76Tke3lT8s2v-DDraQVYgQ2w0jHT4ILYO0A7dgOdF2JKiYJm1FIwgpMALczgsgL8MR-PDIe98XUJ60UomOikMIO_WonEenPIuSk5praFtg1piKd9bEe6WQ9lmYluP7gf6GorMihmXuj/s640/blogger-image--1847213383.jpg"></a></div></div>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-4458283993949883812015-09-29T14:46:00.001-05:002015-09-29T15:03:06.697-05:00"That Wasn't Me," Brandi CarlileOn a Roots N' Blues high and can't stop listening to Brandi Carlile. I didn't know this song before I saw her in concert a few months ago, and so glad I did. Quickly becoming one of my favorites.<br />
<br />
She prefaced it by saying, "This is a song about who you are when you are not who you want to be."<br />
<br />
<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://embed.spotify.com/?uri=spotify%3Atrack%3A2l1zQCCLwSa7R7GUgNJnlX" width="300"></iframe>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-65791589399029998832015-09-16T16:15:00.000-05:002015-09-16T16:15:36.984-05:00On Loneliness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtoeNGEkGrKSfW0Ec-myuJvgeJ5858koPOlKhOGRM7KDyhL3IaKZMN0PfhFe84DSGSQ59-VY-IPC0FChQlaRaiSDuVI9ObA2gg76k_6bQho_6i4ceMmWaEQwAkS7Ed_DN5970oC4H_i3G/s1600/8eb4abd2333e837b17d2517792dc2b91.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtoeNGEkGrKSfW0Ec-myuJvgeJ5858koPOlKhOGRM7KDyhL3IaKZMN0PfhFe84DSGSQ59-VY-IPC0FChQlaRaiSDuVI9ObA2gg76k_6bQho_6i4ceMmWaEQwAkS7Ed_DN5970oC4H_i3G/s400/8eb4abd2333e837b17d2517792dc2b91.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
It's great getting to do whatever you want, whenever you want.<br />
<br />
But sometimes, you wish someone cared about what time you were getting home, or where you were going after work, or how long you'd be out.<br />
<br />
You wish someone cared about you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/daniellesmyname/style-me/" target="_blank">image via </a></i>Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-47938786541554851412015-09-11T16:00:00.001-05:002015-09-11T16:00:25.782-05:00Am I Crazy?Can someone from the PNW area tell me if this is crazy?<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse;">
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 1</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Fly in to Portland</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 2</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Full day in Portland</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 3</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Drive 1 hr to Columbia River Gorge for the morning; 4 hr to Seattle for the evening</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 4</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Full Day Seattle</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 5</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Drive 3 hours to Rainier for the day; 3 hours back to Seattle</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 6</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Morning in Seattle; Drive 3 hours to Vancouver for evening</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 89.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 7</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Full day ferry trip to Vancouver Island / Victoria</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 8</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Full day in Vancouver</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 9</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Long drive w/ stops in Olympic Park and coast, to Astoria</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 89.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 10</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">morning in Astoria, 4 hrs to Eugene for the evening</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 89.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 11</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Eugene / OR exploration</span><br />
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</tr>
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 89.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 12</span><br />
</td>
<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Eugene / OR exploration</span><br />
</td>
</tr>
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 89.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Day 13</span><br />
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<td style="border-color: #000000 #000000 #000000 #000000; border-style: solid; border-width: 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px 1.0px; height: 12.0px; padding: 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px 4.0px; width: 371.0px;" valign="top">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10px;">Fly home out of Portland</span><br />
</td>
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</tbody>
</table>
Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1031568469067169203.post-33152544429760714062015-09-08T09:34:00.002-05:002015-09-08T09:34:50.041-05:00On RestFor a long time, I've been obsessed with waking up early. Every article you read about "successful people" says they they're up reading the paper, drinking coffee or working out by dawn. Even with a late start to my work day (9am), I have trouble waking up before 7:30am. And to be honest, sometimes the harder I try to start the habit of waking up early, the more I find myself dragging out of bed at 8:20am.<br />
<br />
On weekends, I'm usually up between 6-8am. Granted, it's up for coffee and <i>Girl Meets World</i> and then back to bed for a nap, but still, I feel pressure to get up and seize the day. My ex-boyfriend would sleep until 11 or 12 most weekends, and I was always so mad that he was wasting our day sleeping in bed. (At least it gave me a chance to catch up on girly TV shows...?)<br />
<br />
I'll admit that yes, getting up early on Saturdays and doing yoga and the farmers' market and being home before 11am feeling like I accomplished so much is awesome. I love that feeling. In fact, I've found myself wishing that yoga was an hour <i>earlier</i> so I could get even more of a jump start on my day.<br />
<br />
But last week, my yoga teacher was talking about how she had just spent her day off sleeping in til after 11am, and never felt so good. She, like me, had always put pressure on herself to get up early. But sometimes, it is okay to sleep in.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>"Slow down when you need it. Rest when you need it," she said. </b></blockquote>
She was talking about life, and talking about yoga too, of course. Because sometimes seizing the day means seizing it from bed.Daniellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13123047664442347126noreply@blogger.com1