<?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-8416188272911026219</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:23:16.804-08:00</updated><category term='Hailey'/><category term='Jillian and Me'/><category term='Because of you'/><category term='Ellen'/><title type='text'>These Four Walls</title><subtitle type='html'>Life is either an adventure or nothing.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-5860518311464119670</id><published>2009-10-21T20:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T20:30:34.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you look HOMELESS you get free stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;I decided it was time to clean the burner, since they were DISGUSTING and it looked like someone had just candled their ears and dumped the contents of the tube onto the 1940's burner.  Realizing that I could either a) sweep the earwax under the stove or b) lift up the top and clean it all…I got a little ambitious. For those of you who don't know, fun fact #143 about Ms. DW is that I DO NOT LIKE TO CLEAN unless forced to, bribed to or if I have company. I used to con my sister into coming to "help" me and then she used to do it all. What?! She LIKES to clean. Anyway, after babysitting a lot lately and doing cleaning there I decided to continue on my cleaning roll. I lifted up the stove and OH MY GOODNESS! It was the GROSSEST thing I have ever seen, beside's my old roommate, Alyssa's bathroom. Paper towel after paper towel, minute after minute the darn thing just would not clean. I would tell you what it looked like and my analogy I used with my roommates but I will refrain. Ok you twisted my arm, picture a very poopy child's diaper on every paper towel. It was TOTALLY and utterly FOUL!  I don't think the stove had ever been cleaned. Fortunately for me, I realized early on in my diaper diving adventure, that there were wires exposed and I might die. I pulled out the plug before noticing a yellow sign that says, "WARNING you may die or get shocked badly." Good to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In my attempt to be a good soul, a kind roommate, a "neat freak" if you will, I only had my dislike for cleaning reinforced…moral of the story, you will never catch me with rubber gloves on trying to clean again. Sorry future husband. During my stove cleaning fiasco, the gas burners got a little too wet and refused to work! We started using matches to get the stove going, but you always end up burning yourself and that's no good. *SIDENOTE Alysia came up to visit from DC this past weekend. Being a good friend I went to the store, got a few of her favorites, and decided I would be prepared for making a meal on Sunday. I felt pretty good about this. The meal that I bought for us to eat on Sunday required the use of the burners. I figured after a few days they would be working but alas they were not. We searched the kitchen for matches and soon discovered they were all gone! NOOOOOO! I'm HUNGRY! Don't make me go without food. Don't make me go buy something on Sunday! So I said all smart, ok Heavenly Father, if you don't want me to spend money on Sunday and to keep the Sabbath Day Holy miracle this stove into lighting. ABRACADABRA….let there be light! I said let there be light…nothing, just the stinky smell of gas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Alright, we must venture out. So I'm wearing a yellow skirt, my slippers and a coat with the hood over my head because it was FREEZING. My accomplice, Leash, totally blew my outfit out of the water…black pantyhose, boots and a coat. LOL. Just picture the two of us. I look completely homeless and Leash, well she looked a little sketchy without any pants on. We went to Duane Read, "hello do you have matches." Shaniqua go get these girls some matches…here you go. Wait what? You just GAVE us matches? NICE! So we left and decided that we wanted bread, a lapse in my preparation. We stopped into this nice Italian restaurant and asked if we could buy a loaf of bread. The owner 1) wanted us out of his place 2) thought Alysia had nice legs 3) Felt bad for the homeless girl tagging along SO he GAVE us the loaf for free. Nice. Guess the abracadabra doesn't work but being homeless sure did. Thanks HF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Speaking of being homeless…after grocery shopping Alysia and I were making our way to the shuttle train connecting the West and East sides, when we spotted a lady in front of us making her way down the stairs. No big deal. Didn't give her a second thought until she spotted us and our grocery bags. I was already passed her so she turns to Alysia and starts WAILING "help me, help me, help me." I thought she was hurt so I turned around and asked if she was ok and what she needed help with. She said, "I don't got no food, I don't got no groceries, I don't got no clothes in my house, HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME." Ok first off don't think I'm heartless for the behavior I'm about to tell you about because every time I go out to eat and have leftovers I give it to a homeless person. This lady was a con artist. I looked at her and said oh ok well there are programs for that and you should help yourself. I walked away and continued to make my way back home. The lady follows us, NO MORE TEARS OR SOBBING, and sits across from us on the train! The train doesn't move for 4-5 minutes and I'm thinking AWKWARD!!! As soon as the announcement came on that the train would be leaving the tears turned on again and she started walking down the train asking people to help her and to give her money. Really? She is a professional crier. Too bad her boots looked expensive and her clothes were nice, well not nice meaning I would NEVER wear them, but they looked warm and new. Lady, GO GET A JOB! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;UPDATE…still looking for a job. Getting totally sick of doing so. Wanting to LEAVE NYC for good but still feeling like I need to be here. All my leads and contacts are leaving me at a dead-end and it's FRUSTRATING. On a positive note, I like my ward. My apartment is clean (well mostly) and has a GREAT location. I'm going on a date on Thursday with a guy who likes Ketchup as much as I do (a requirement in order for me to really like you) and gLee is on tomorrow. Oh gLee you get me through the week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-5860518311464119670?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/5860518311464119670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-you-look-homeless-you-get-free-stuff.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/5860518311464119670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/5860518311464119670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-you-look-homeless-you-get-free-stuff.html' title='If you look HOMELESS you get free stuff'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-7737678369944472760</id><published>2009-10-12T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T16:13:07.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a FAKE benjamin + a NEW place  + TRESPASSING = ONE month in NYC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So much can happen in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ONE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; months time. Let me give you a few highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) My roommate tried to kick me out for wearing shoes in the house. She then proceed to shove her hand in my face and say, "Conversation over" (repeated three times) when I spoke truth to her and it struck a nerve. She then used her upper body/boobs to shove me down the hall. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;WOW&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; is that not enough excitement for you? Well obviously it wasn't enough for me either because the goodness continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;DESPERATELY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; needed to find a place to live. After searching for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;WEEKS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, with nothing working out I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;FINALLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; found a place! Good news: I don't live with crazy people! I have two normal, fun, nice, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;HONEST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; roommates who I get along with well and enjoy. I also live in a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;CLEAN, SAFE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; part of town. I live right next door to the East Side Chapel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;SO &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;you know it's got to be good or the church wouldn't have a building there. I have my own room but it's actually like having one huge shared room. The apartment is rail road style meaning we all walk through each others bedrooms to get to our own. It's not so bad. I'm at the very end and I have my own private entrance, which I never use but it may come in handy. Sharon keeps saying she wants to sneak boys in it but I don't think she gets that it's not sneaking them in if they are going through MY room and I can see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I no longer smell urine on a daily basis or get weird catcalls! Thank you Upper East Side rich folk yuppies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) After much debate I decided to be the lease holder, meaning I signed for the apartment and the two girls pay rent to me (but unlike Marcella I don't steal from them or spend their deposits-yes my deposit was spent on a flat screen tv and hundreds of dollars of clothing). On the day of the lease signing, Becca transferred money into my account and Sharon gave me cash. I needed to get two cashiers checks in order to finalize the lease. I went to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Wachovia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BOOO&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;) since they are now part of Wells Fargo, to get a cash advance. I walked in,  got my money, walked  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;TEN FEET ACROSS THE STREET&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; to the Bank of America, since Alysia could &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; free cashier's checks there, and not even half way through going through the money the lady pulls out a bill, walks away, comes back with her supervisor who says, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;THIS IS A COUNTERFEIT BILL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;!" um...legit? Seriously because I just came from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Wachovia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, directly across the street 30 seconds ago. Bank policy states she can't give me the bill back but nicely agreed to walk me across the street back to the cursed place of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Wachovia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. Apparently since I left the bank it is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;OUT OF THEIR HANDS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. Then they accused me of switching the bills...can we use logic for one second here. Hi I'm going to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;SWITCH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; a bill and then go to a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;BANK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; and deposit it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;errr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;YEAH RIGHT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. My theory, the teller switched the money. She was super shady and I got a bad vibe from her. Not to mention she had blue, cat eye contacts and was just creepy. Lakeisha, the manager with a really bad weave, said there was nothing she could do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;REALLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;? I'm pretty sure you could eat it and stop accusing me of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;fraudulent&lt;/span&gt; behavior, I don't know that's just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;ONE OPTION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. Instead I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;CRIED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, yes to all of you who think I'm emotionless I cried in the bank, went to the ATM pulled out another hundred (which let's get real I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;NO JOB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; so that's a lot of money) and went back to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;BofA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; for the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;cashier's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; check. Alysia calls &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;regularly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; pretending to be me. I have yet to get the $100 back...I'm hoping persistance pays off, literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Continuing one with the previous mentioned story/day I accidentally grabbed Alysia's old Metro Card and well you need that to get on the subway. There was no getting around not having a current card because there were two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;MTA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; attendants right in front of the turntables so I went up to one, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;CRIED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; again blubbering something about getting a fake hundred, grabbing the wrong card, just having moved here and various other ramblings. I think the lady just wanted me to shut up so she waved me off with her hand and said, "alright now, go on through" I think she may have muttered crazy psycho under her breath but that's beside the point. Leash hugged me and just laughed. It my have been rather shameful to use my current state for our benefit but after forking out $100 PLUS my first months rent and deposit an extra $2.25 for a subway ride was out of the question. Don't judge my cheapness; NYC will do that to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After emerging from the subway, tears all dried up, we started walking home and should have turned but didn't. Unfortunately NYC isn't like Utah and doesn't follow the grid system. After realizing that we could see my building from the bottom of a hill we started to make our way up this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;SUPER SKETCHY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; area. We saw all these men loitering in this crusty park but decided the only way home was up and through the trees. We start climbing some stairs and part way up I could see the ground because there was a huge HOLE in the middle of the stairs which was just threatening to open wider and swallow us up. Now smart people would have turned back but after my day I decided to nothing else could get me down and continue on my way. After a few more stairs we saw a chain going across the stairs, easy breezy we just hopped right over. Next we encountered a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;NO TRESPASSING SIGN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; and a fence....oops. What did we do? We climbed it. I went over first and was trying to help Leash down when she scooted forward and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;RIPPED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; her pants. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; so funny. Don't feel too bad they were legging type pants and yes she wore them the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) We ended the day going to the Yankees/Royals game. Lucky for Leash she's from Kansas City and her team won. I think everyone in the stadium hated us, because of course we cheered really loud for everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) I am now obsessed with the FREE section on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. I have managed to score tickets to a show called SESSIONS and an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;armoire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) "New ward, new babe pool." On the plus side there are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;NORMAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; people in the ward. Did I tell you the story of Eric &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;LaRue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;? Well he stood up at the podium and said, "Brothers and Sisters, John &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Bytheway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; has NOTHING on me. I can teach you how to  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;SCOUR &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;FACEBOOK&lt;/span&gt; for a RUSSIAN BRIDE and I have a TEMPLE DATE to prove it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Oh goodness. He is now writing a book so everyone can &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;DUPLICATE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; his methods. Feel free to let me know if you'd like to be on the waiting list. He was just one such gem in the ward...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) I now babysit for $15+ an hour in order to make some money while still looking for a job. Don't judge me that I'm blogging in the middle of the day...this is my break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) I have had a few job interviews!! But &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; not interested in any of the positions. I would make more money babysitting than I would being salaried at a few of the positions. I'm too old for/not into babysitting, UNLESS I love the kids/the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) It's getting REALLY cold here :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) I got to go to Utah for a visit! It was much to short and I had the flu Saturday and Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) I bought my ticket for the NEW MOON &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;premier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. Sorry Andrea and Hayley I'm not going ti make it back to Utah but we will all watch it together...a few times I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Things are on the UP and UP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) I found a burger place that is better than In-N-Out. Hard to believe but oh so true. Don't believe me? Come to NYC and I will prove it to you. If you still think In-N-Out is better then the burger, fries and shake are on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NYC Gems&lt;br /&gt;1) a black man on the subway shouting about black history month and white oppression. When Asians got on the train he said, "YOU Asians! Did you know that you are descendants of blacks? We own you. You are us. You are black!" REALLY?&lt;br /&gt;2) two HUGE guys fighting on the subway over something really dumb but it consumed them for a good 15 minutes. After making a huge scene on the train they got off and started holding hands...REALLY?&lt;br /&gt;3) Contemplating taking furniture from a curb and then changing my mind because it is gross, weird and I didn't know how many dogs had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;peed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-7737678369944472760?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/7737678369944472760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/10/fake-benjamin-new-place-trespassing-one.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/7737678369944472760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/7737678369944472760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/10/fake-benjamin-new-place-trespassing-one.html' title='a FAKE benjamin + a NEW place  + TRESPASSING = ONE month in NYC'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-61615880100325984</id><published>2009-09-08T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T11:51:16.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting LOST</title><content type='html'>Jim Jacobs required us all to "go get lost" in every city we visited in Europe last summer. I'm grateful for this idea because it has allowed me to see parts of the city I normally wouldn't. I decided to do that here in NYC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked my roommate so where is the library? &lt;br /&gt;I don't know somewhere up north. &lt;br /&gt;Where is the grocery store?&lt;br /&gt;Well there is one a few blocks from here, I don't know the address but you can't miss it.&lt;br /&gt;Do you know where ______________ is.&lt;br /&gt;People in New York don't know where things are. We just know the routes we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know all that I can about the city I live in so I decided to just "GET LOST." I sat and watched a baseball game in central park. I walked around and discovered the most beautiful fountain. I found the greatest place to eat called Pita Grill and the Shake Shack. I found a spot by the turtle pond that has become the place I want to sit and sketch and write in my journal. I found the cutest little cafe to sit and drink a smoothie and do work on my computer. I rediscovered the beauty of Columbia. I saw where John Lennon died and the Strawberry Fields. I found the chess tables in the park, searching for Bobby Fisher style. I love getting lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful for Jim. I feel comfortable and confident to travel alone, to navigate my way on any form of public transportation and to really appreciate my surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UPDATE: I am still jobless :( but don't worry I wont be for long. I don't love NYC enough to stay here and be a waitress just to pay the bills, that's not my jam. I am trying to network like crazy and put lots of tools in my box. The living situation is still mediocre at best. I talked to my roommate about being dishonest about the rent and I thought her face was going to explode as she yelled, "I'M NOT GO TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH THE LEASE IS! IT'S PERSONAL" Goodness, that struck a sensitive cord. Well I told her I wasn't going to let her make money off me anymore so I'm OUT at the end of the month. PS I may blackball her on the listserv. What you might ask? How can I knowingly let someone move in here and fall prey to the dishonestly and odd/anal rules. No towels in the bathroom, no personal items in the bathroom period, no shoes, no food in the bedrooms just the kitchen which has no table and the living room has no couch so sit on the floor...bizarro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-61615880100325984?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/61615880100325984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/09/getting-lost.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/61615880100325984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/61615880100325984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/09/getting-lost.html' title='Getting LOST'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-3291808169402464579</id><published>2009-09-03T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T08:13:26.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're not in PROVO anymore Todo...</title><content type='html'>I have been in New York for 3 days now, whoop whoop, I'm a seasoned New Yorker...This place is so fascinating. First off lets just getting the dirty stuff out of the way first...this city smells like the toilet. People pee everywhere and dogs poop on the sidewalk. Ok people there isn't grass here, which means your dog stays in side all day, which is rude to the animal and you should not be allowed to own a pet. Dogs, if you're going to poo poo on the sidewalk you shouldn't be allowed in NYC. Move. I kept smelling pee one day and realized IT WAS ME! I must have gotten some on my pants, gross, and I carried the scent with me all day. Not cool. That's a great way to make a first impression...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hi I'm Danielle Walton, I smell like urine. Would you like to hire me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that that is out of the way let me tell you about my experience so far. I decided to take a taxi from JFK because let's get real the $45 fee was better than risking getting my stuff stolen as I lugged one 50lb suitcase up the stairs and left the other at the bottom. My cabby was pretty nice until the very end. He unloads me and I'm looking around thinking, SKETCHY, THIS is MY apartment? Excuse me I must have given you the wrong address. That or I got duped! Yup I got duped. So I swipe my card and I say ok the machine says thank you so we're good right, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no no it didn't go through try again, &lt;/span&gt;so I try again. This time the screen goes blank so I figure we're good right? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No no it's no good. Here. &lt;/span&gt;So mr cabby man does his magic and a tip screen comes up. He says &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you can't go any further without a tip so put a tip in. &lt;/span&gt;I'm thinking listen man $45 is all your getting but my generous side came out so I said ten percent (haha totally NOT generous). I put it in and he turns around and says &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;if you don't want to tip me FINE just put zero zero! Waste of time. Here in New York we tip at least 10% for everything. You cost me $2.50 for swiping your credit card! Waste of time. Get out! Waste of time...&lt;/span&gt;then the cab, which was a mini-van was peeling out down the street. 2 nice men in my building carried all my stuff inside and to my apartment. For every raunchy person I have met in New York I always meet 2 nice ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My apartment is dirty, in a bad location and not what I was expecting. My roommate decided to get a 3rd roommate and the two of us would pay the rent while she gets to live there for free or close to it. Um dishonest much? Yeah that's what I thought. So of course I called her out on it. She didn't answer my question, just talked around it but basically let me know what I needed to knowm she's shady biz. I'm moving at the end of my one month contract. The best decision I've made yet in connection to New York, not to sign a long term lease :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live at the LDS Employment office. The Senior Couple that run it, the Kigins, are so great and I enjoy being around them. It's nice to be at the church where it is so clean, quite and peaceful. They have been very helpful in getting my resume into shape and for some networking. I met the director over the New York and New Jersy Employment resources and then stayed for a class he was teaching. After the class he says to me, but in front of everyone, Danielle you will be successful hereI have no doubt. You will make a great difference in the lives you touch and in the job you do. Good luck. I think he may have seen through my I can conquer the wor&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SqA2ut8oD8I/AAAAAAAAAFI/pxYxiwoliuk/s1600-h/Dont%27+give+up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SqA2ut8oD8I/AAAAAAAAAFI/pxYxiwoliuk/s320/Dont%27+give+up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377358131316133826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ld facade and saw the little girl who just wants my hard work and efforts to pay off. My mom, who is the BEST cheerleader in the world, said you know Dan its like when you were a little girl and you never stayed in your position for soccer. You &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;went where the ball was so you could &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MAKE SOMETHING HAPPEN&lt;/span&gt;. I'm so used to working hard and getting what I want. Now I'm working hard, 9 months later, and still waiting. She said Dani let go and trust. Mom you are wise. So I'm letting go. Turning it over. Putting it in the hands of the Lord. Ok Heavenly Father here's my best efforts now I'll wait for your time table (this will be the hardest for me) and for the opportunity you know is best for me. I'm not really discouraged I'm just IMPATIENT! But I'm trying to be better. In case you do talk to me in the next bit, until I have found a job remind me I'm letting go and things will work out. This picture is at the employment center and I love it. It picks me up everytime I see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Awkward firsts&lt;/span&gt; for me:&lt;br /&gt;1) Man on man makeout...&lt;br /&gt;2) Witnessing a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;drug deal&lt;/span&gt; from 3 feet behind and then having the guys turn around and see me there.&lt;br /&gt;3) this HUGE lady made some weird noise at me and pointed so I scooted over but I knew there was no way she could fit. Before I could move she was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;sitting on me&lt;/span&gt;. It was weird and uncomfortable, not to mention HEAVY for the rest of the ride. I couldn't move.&lt;br /&gt;4) I sat next to some guy who &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;SWEAT&lt;/span&gt; on me and left it on my shirt&lt;br /&gt;5) I smelled like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;urine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I'm pretty sure the man above me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;killed&lt;/span&gt; his wife. I heard lots of running, from a child I'm assuming, and then arguing. The man's voice got really loud and then I heard banging and loud thuds. Next thing I knew something was being dragged across the floor and there was silence. I haven't heard a sound since. Creepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep checking back I'm SURE the list will keep growing. It's only been 3 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright I'm off to DC to spend the weekend with my loves Alysia and Lindsay. 4 hour bus ride, yeah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-3291808169402464579?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/3291808169402464579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/09/were-not-in-provo-anymore-todo.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/3291808169402464579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/3291808169402464579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/09/were-not-in-provo-anymore-todo.html' title='We&apos;re not in PROVO anymore Todo...'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SqA2ut8oD8I/AAAAAAAAAFI/pxYxiwoliuk/s72-c/Dont%27+give+up.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-4083230445389713829</id><published>2009-08-31T15:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T15:59:37.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TWO suitcases, ONE Carryone, a backpack and a ONE WAY TICKET on an Eastbound plane</title><content type='html'>This is it folks. It's real. I'm doing it. I'm already gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting in the Sacramento airport waiting for my midnight, red eye flight. The funny thing about my flight time is, in March a few friends and I went to New York on the red eye and we all swore we would never do it again. It's awful. But here I am sitting and waiting to take the same flight from Sacramento to JFK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me crazy but I'm just going out there. I don't have a job and in this economy that's bad news...but I've got a FEELING. A feeling that won't go away so here I am, chasing a feeling; a dream; a new ADVENTURE. Those of you who know me best know that I am a feelings girl. I never quite know why I feel like I should do something, and often it seems so illogical I probably seem like a big headcase BUT it's always right and exactly what I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a place to live and that's about it besides a bed (thankfully I didn't have to buy one) and a closet. I shipped 10 pounds of hangers today...haha wait what? Yeah that's right TEN POUNDS of hangers. Thank you Ty for shipping it for me for free. Along with my massive stash of hangers, I sent out a new, bought esp for New York, bedspread which unfortunately won't get there until Saturday but I'm not complaining because again it was free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are giving me funny looks and I heard one lady say, "why does that girl have her pillows?" Well because it's a red eye flight, I want to sleep and jet blue now charges $7 for a recycled and probably unwashed pillow and blanket...no thanks. Ok but the real reason is, I just didn't have space for it. I look so ridiculous carrying two pillows shoved into one case, my laptop case, a backpack and a purse. Yeah I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have ambivalent feelings right now and am just trying to sort through them. On the one hand it's new and exciting. I have been looking forward to running through the parks here, riding the subway, meeting new people, really being out on my own just me and the Lord. On the flip side, I already miss my family and it's SO DANG EXPENSIVE out here. Live and learn right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be the best experience ever because I am going to make it that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-4083230445389713829?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/4083230445389713829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-suitcases-one-carryone-backpack-and_31.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/4083230445389713829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/4083230445389713829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-suitcases-one-carryone-backpack-and_31.html' title='TWO suitcases, ONE Carryone, a backpack and a ONE WAY TICKET on an Eastbound plane'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-4094240098053532912</id><published>2009-08-30T00:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T00:48:46.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What if...</title><content type='html'>So many emotions. So many thoughts, ideas, scenarios running through my head. Growing up my best friend Jessica and I used to sit around for hours and play, "What if." You know, "what if you had to choose between Johnny Depp and Denzel Washington who would you choose" totally something 14 year old girls would entertain themselves with for hours. Now I'm thinking of those situations...what if I hate New York, what if I can't find a job, what if I realize I made a mistake in going out there, what if I spend all my money, what if? What if? What if? Why is it that we often second guess ourselves? We tend to think about things from a negative or skeptical perspective. Thinking about "what ifs" is just as much a time waster now than it was for me as a 14 year old girl asking silly questions to a friend. What if? Well what if this is the greatest experience of my life? What if it forever changes me and it is something I need to grow and progress? I can't think about all these situations. It does me NO good at all. All I can focus on is doing my very best and loving the time I have to experience New York City in a way I haven't before. I need to stop wasting my time wondering about "what if" situations and enjoy the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is what we make of it. Make every moment count. Learn from every experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-4094240098053532912?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/4094240098053532912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-if.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/4094240098053532912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/4094240098053532912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-if.html' title='What if...'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-2530809716028662695</id><published>2009-08-19T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T23:33:10.133-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Because of you'/><title type='text'>For Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/Sozs52OVhvI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mPH4mQMPHbA/s1600-h/millers+and+me+f+of+c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/Sozs52OVhvI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mPH4mQMPHbA/s320/millers+and+me+f+of+c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371928934098503410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can say it much better than the song from Wicked, For Good, so I'm going to let the song say it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn and we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them and we help them in return. I know I'm who I am today because I knew you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime so let me say before we part so much of me is made of what I learned from you you'll be with me like a hand print on my heart and now whatever way our stories end I know you have re-written mine by being my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I knew you I have been changed for good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had to say goodbye (for now) to one of the people I love the most in this world, as she sets off for Texas and her new adventure as Mrs. Camille Lewis. Good luck Millers. I love you and you'll forever be my soul sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saying goodbye to Camille reminded me of all the people who have changed me and helped me to be who I am today. Thank you. I love you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change is a funny thing. It is unpredictable yet it is the only thing that stays the same, meaning change happens constantly and consistently. Sometimes I wish all the people I love could be together in one spot always, but I realized that we are given a short time with them to learn  and grow. We need to take advantage of the opportunity because it often passes quickly. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There is no comfort in growth zones and no growth in comfort zones. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-2530809716028662695?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/2530809716028662695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-good.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/2530809716028662695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/2530809716028662695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-good.html' title='For Good'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/Sozs52OVhvI/AAAAAAAAAE4/mPH4mQMPHbA/s72-c/millers+and+me+f+of+c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-6435066843066080444</id><published>2009-08-13T21:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T22:22:53.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bike Gang</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SoT0Oj2E6yI/AAAAAAAAADw/PljwuW-MyNw/s1600-h/me+on+bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; 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	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	line-height:115%;} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;Sometimes we get bored. So&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt; what do c&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;ollege kids do w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;hen they are bored? Well most drink, but here i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;n Provo we have to make our own fun so we dress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt; up in amazing clothes and r&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SoT0PArEhcI/AAAAAAAAAD4/xSX2Y23css0/s1600-h/bike+gang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SoT0PArEhcI/AAAAAAAAAD4/xSX2Y23css0/s320/bike+gang.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369685194448340418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;ide around on our bikes singing 80’s songs at the top of our lungs. Fun? Totally! Am I joking? Not in the slightest. This one of my favorite memories/things I have done in Provo. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;That is something I’m going to miss about this place. We just enjoy one another and do crazy silly things that we might not normally do, but it’s acceptable here. Not just accepted it is THE thing to do. We wanted to go for a bike ride but we couldn’t just go in what we were wearing…where is the fun in that? So we dressed up. Please note the Panda sweater Hailey is wearing and Jill’s shiny gray spandex pants. Oh yes, we look good.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-6435066843066080444?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/6435066843066080444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/bike-gang.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/6435066843066080444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/6435066843066080444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/bike-gang.html' title='The Bike Gang'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SoT0Oj2E6yI/AAAAAAAAADw/PljwuW-MyNw/s72-c/me+on+bike.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-17101463552964445</id><published>2009-08-13T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T23:42:39.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jillian and Me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hailey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ellen'/><title type='text'>Our Feelings On Paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SozwMb5DWwI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bUs8Qq9H8Rw/s1600-h/mural+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SozwMb5DWwI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bUs8Qq9H8Rw/s320/mural+me.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371932551982308098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently these are my feelings. I'll let you decide for yourself what they mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SoTh6KPnRZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/dmSLtTTrlNM/s1600-h/Mural.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 311px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SoTh6KPnRZI/AAAAAAAAADQ/dmSLtTTrlNM/s320/Mural.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369665045030978962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who knew painting could be such catharsis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-17101463552964445?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/17101463552964445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-knew-painting-could-be-such.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/17101463552964445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/17101463552964445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-knew-painting-could-be-such.html' title='Our Feelings On Paper'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/SozwMb5DWwI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bUs8Qq9H8Rw/s72-c/mural+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8416188272911026219.post-7470661658517507053</id><published>2009-08-05T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T21:40:21.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Broken Road</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/Snpp6Z0qeoI/AAAAAAAAADA/asuqTKDucsg/s1600-h/broken%2Broad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/Snpp6Z0qeoI/AAAAAAAAADA/asuqTKDucsg/s320/broken%2Broad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366718358050470530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever questioned what you are supposed to be doing with your life right now or said something like, I'm so unhappy with where I am at in life? I have. Many times. Daily in fact for the past 8 months of my life. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sad? Pathetic?&lt;/span&gt; A bit, but hear me out.&lt;br /&gt;I have always had plans. Plan A, Plan B, Plan E, F, G. I was prepared. Things have come pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;naturally&lt;/span&gt; for me and I have succeed in my endeavors in life. I have had the road my life would take mapped out for as long as I can remember. Do well in high school so I can get a scholarship to college, check. Make good friends and have lasting memories, check. Live abroad and travel, check. Do well in college, check. Graduate, check. Go to graduate school...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;um &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;RAINCHECK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;? Turns out grad school isn't in the cards for me right now, so what to do? I don't know?! This is not on my road map! The road has broken, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;veered&lt;/span&gt;, lead to a dead end! I had no plan B-E. This was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;THE&lt;/span&gt; plan. I didn't know what to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;So I got a job. That's what any good college grad does right? The job in fact is in a field that has NOTHING to do with my major, and  a job I'm over-qualified for, so I'm not challenged. So what do I do? I dutifully go to work daily in order to pay the bills but each day I sit and think...I am unhappy with where my life is. Oh and mostly I WANT TO QUIT. It's my daily war cry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm constantly waiting for these "promised blessings" to come my way, to lead and direct me and to give meaning to my life. All this time I've been waiting, impatiently I might add, wanting answers, direction and a new adventure when I finally realized something...I have the power to alter my life. To change where I am at. To achieve the goals I want to achieve. I realized that when I am promised something I should not just sit around waiting for things to come to me, rather I need to put in work, effort and diligence before good things will come my way. Some people in life are just plain lucky and others have to work hard. I, fortunately, am in the latter group. I have come to accept this and realized that my hard work has taught me valuable skills. A very wise Mr. Wayne once said to his young son Bruce, "We fall to learn how to get back up." This has been my time to fall. For a while I just laid there hoping someone would get me back on my feet but I soon realized I needed to get up on my own. I'm back on my feet but I can't move. I see all these paths in front of me and I'm not sure which one to take. To me they appear broken but my eyes cannot discern truth and I am deceived. The road is not broken at all.&lt;br /&gt;So where does this leave me? Well I'm still working at that job...still feeling unfulfilled but I'm doing something about it. I'm working hard to find something that better fits me, aka something I actually enjoy, and fulfills me. I'm making my own fun and I'm sending positive vibes into the universe (haha oh mom) that good things will come my way. I am working towards developing skills and talents for those "promised blessing" that will bring fulfillment in my life. I realized that I, me, Danielle Leeann Walton determine my own happiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8416188272911026219-7470661658517507053?l=danielleleeann.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/feeds/7470661658517507053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/broken-road.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/7470661658517507053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8416188272911026219/posts/default/7470661658517507053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danielleleeann.blogspot.com/2009/08/broken-road.html' title='The Broken Road'/><author><name>Danielle Leeann</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/117837549852003373460</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8eFuXZ8-HDQ/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/_TOf-cmlwIQ/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nLc6VeHT4WQ/Snpp6Z0qeoI/AAAAAAAAADA/asuqTKDucsg/s72-c/broken%2Broad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
