tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7683613231704158822024-03-13T18:34:43.753-07:00alexandra elizabethalexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-81459863726595640612012-08-14T19:48:00.002-07:002012-08-14T19:48:18.014-07:00Wasted Time<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">People always worry about <span class="">wasting time</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">and say things like 'time is of the essence.'</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Why is time such a worry? Why must it not be wasted? What makes time 'of the essence'?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Essence is defined as the most essential or vital part of something. So, people are saying that time is most important in their lives.. Well this may very well be true. Time is very important in our lives, we do not get time back and each moment can be used to be bigger and better. Time is a great thing but what gives us this time? How do we make sure that we still have this part of life that is the most essential thing for us?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Our life is measured in heartbeats... With each new breath and each new heartbeat you have more life, you have more time. The very core of our time to be better, to live longer, and experience more things is all based on the amount of time our heart gives us with each beat.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Sitting here thinking about wasted time and asking myself, 'why did you even bother <span class="">wasting your time</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">,' I began to think about what was worst... The wasted time or the wasted heartbeats that were put into the experience?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">I thought about brokenness and healing time and dug deep into what really mattered. I came to a personal conclusion that...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">To me the time does not matter. Waste all my time that you want... But shame on you for wasting my heartbeats and my own gift of life that was being measured in each breath. Shame on you for <span class="">wasting my time</span> in the heartbeats that come after that are needed to fix the hurt that was caused.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Go ahead and waste the time... Waste the minutes in the days and the hours in the weeks... But think about the core, the heart, the soul, the feelings and emotions behind the time that you are wasting. Is it fair? I really don't think it is at all.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">-Allie Mason</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><blockquote>
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</span>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-76006186734560981922011-04-13T10:23:00.000-07:002011-04-13T10:25:29.755-07:00I was feeling creative this morning =]I decided to make a video for my lovely arislynne. she completes me.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_DYZS5ptFDU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><br />have a beautiful day everyone.<br /><br />alliecatalexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-71344625930887014972011-04-12T05:30:00.000-07:002011-04-12T05:37:15.408-07:00April 12, 2011This song puts you in the best mood in the mornings =]<div><br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5BPYbClxjRY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>have a good day lovely.</div><div><br /></div><div>alliecat</div>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-26892247344604886892011-03-21T11:08:00.000-07:002011-03-21T13:27:49.725-07:00They Were Just Words On A Page . . .<span style="font-family:arial;">Walking down the vintage brick pavers the scenery was so beautiful. The foliage was made to fit the season. Beautiful white and yellow Lillie's were all around her. Cherry Blossoms were picture perfect, the smell was that from dreams. It seemed like nothing near her own reality.<br /><br />Right before she finished turning the corner she looked down and something was not right. It was completely out of place, she leaned over and picked up a folded piece of stationary. It was edged into the pavers only deep enough to stay, but acted as if it was hiding from someone. It was as if the little lined travelers stationary was disguising itself from the ordinary and making itself only visible to the one who was meant to find it, the one who the words were for.<br /><br />Partially guilt stricken, she unfolded the stationary. It was addressed to no one. She began to read the letter . . . </span><br /><blockquote><p><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"><em>In every relationship I have been in no one has ever made me nervous, no one but you . . .</em></span></p><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Today is October 5, 2003. The significance? Well, rewind two years ago, October 5, 2001, and it feels like yesterday. This day is more vivid to me than almost all of the others. . .</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> I ran into and was taken back by someone I was so certain of whom they were. The beauty of it all was the fact that I was completely forced to attend that luau, it was destined to be. In my world, everything was falling apart. My family was non-existent, my relationship was being held together by his family, and I was lost. In his world, however, everything was falling together. He was captain of his football team, a class representative, a leader, a friend, a personality. He was just beginning. </span></em><em><span style="font-size:85%;">In 7 months my life completely changed. I fell in love, a love that lasts forever. The kind of love that is it's first, it allows one to realize that there was no love before this. We had the most romantic, passionate first kiss that happened at the perfect time. He had respect for me, the kind of respect that is only given to someone special. And even though it may seem melodramatic . . they began at a time that will never be forgotten. That time will always remind me and bring me back to a lake, a full moon, and no one else around but you and me. </span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"> In 7 short months I built a legacy with you. We went to New York City and had a freezing, but incredible, New Years together in Times Square. I conquered two dreams at once, my first new years kiss and I watched the ball drop with someone I adored. A few days later we told each other we loved one another and we made love for the first time. It was everything I had imagined and more, we became one. And that night in an attic in a small town in North Carolina will never be erased from my mind.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Shortly after, I met your family. I fell in love with the most energetic, loving mother I had ever met in my life. We went to Cape Cod together and had a romantic night on the beach. In those 7 short months, we were crazy together. We spent every minute together and did things I have never dreamed of. It was a romance that no one can explain. We loved each other.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">And then it was gone, taken away in the blink of an eye. Our lives changed and it was not right.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Here I am, looking back two years ago. I know that God allowed me to be at that luau on October 5, 2001 for a reason. The same reason I know that God allowed us to separate. At 19 years of age we had a lot of growing up to do. At 21 years of age we have a lot of growing up to do, and God knows that it means to not have one another in the process.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Last July my heart changed, and as much as it is not fair for you I have to tell you. I am so nervous though, only because I know you and I know where you are in life. I felt it all, all the pain I threw at you, all the ups and downs. I felt my heart finally accept the fact that you are right. 'I am broken.' And I was sorry, I have told you more times than I can count. I know that it does not take it back but I just wish I could let you know how much I deeply care and how sincerely sorry I am for it all.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">So, now I sit here and I put it all down to you. With all of my heart I believe in true love. I believe that there is one person in this life that is made for one other person. I always wonder why out of so many people I know that I am one of the only ones who believes in this kind of love. The kind where you 'just know.' It was not until recently that I realized, it is because that is what we had, we 'just knew.' I cannot even recall all the times that we looked at each other and were just speechless cause what we were was crazy. It was unbelievable.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I went down to the Cape on the 22nd of August to apologize. But more importantly I wanted to tell you how I felt. I never did. . . I don't deserve any more chances. Getting the courage up, 2 weeks later I went down again. I left still not telling you what I wanted to say. Part of me has hope though, and I am holding on to that. I want to prove myself to you, if that is what it will take. I know there is no trust and that is what I want to build again. </span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">However, this is not why I write. Because God has a timing for everything and I know that right now is not my time. It may never be my time. I write to tell you EVERYTHING. Everything I wanted to say but I couldn't. . . </span></em></p><p align="right"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I believe in us, I believe in what we had and I know that is was real. And if one day along this road there comes a time where yours leads you back to me, I will be here. You give me inspiration to be better, to conquer my life and make the most out of every situation. When I was with you in August, you said 'that everything happened so that we could be in the places that we are in today.' That is so true. I am not wishing that things are not the way they are right now. Each day is a new one for me and I love and cherish each one like it is my last. I am just hoping that my heart is right and that when it comes time, we can have our chance. The final one that we wished for 2 years ago. The chance to be grown, mature, to have our lives figured out and have them together.</span></em></p><p align="right"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">I guess I went down to tell you, that yes my heart is open to meet people and have fun. To experience different things and have a few romances on the way. But no, my heart does not have the ability to love again. I believe that there is one person in this life that I am meant to have forever with and if my heart is right, then my forever is meant to be with you. </span></em></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Half of me wishes this will get to you and the other half hopes that it will get lost. But if it does than here it is . . my heart on the line, in the most vulnerable position possible.</span></em></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">The Girl Who Is Hopelessly Romantic</span></em></p><br /><blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>Folding the letter up after reading, she was speechless. With no knowledge of whether or not the addressee got the letter, she put the worn piece of stationary snug back into its position and finished her turn around the corner to see an even more beautiful path than the one she was on before. To her . . they were just words on a page.alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-40343115942322613192011-01-10T14:14:00.000-08:002011-01-10T14:30:20.177-08:00I am on my way home from Steamboat Springs, Colorado and can't help but think that tomorrow is the true beginning of the new year for me. It has been a crazy but amazing week and now tomorrow starts reality, all over again.<br /><br />Yesterday Aris, Melessa, and I all skipped out on skiing to go get 'the best massage we have ever gotten.' It seriously was way worth the missed ski day. My massage therapist asked me in the middle of the massage if she could say a sort of blessing over me. Well. . . knowing me, of course I did not tell her no. I prepared myself during the rest of my massage for what this blessing could be like and really opened up to see what her beliefs were. She surprised me. She spoke words in a way that completely opened my eyes to life and really made me think about my year to come.<br /><br />With the new found peace that her words provided me with, I was inspired to write my own little 'blessing' for my new year:<br /><blockquote><p><br />May I continue to dream big and only live in a way to conquer those dreams.</p><p>May I cherish my family and never cease to be amazed by the bond we have together.</p><p>May I wake up each day and treat it like it is my last.</p><p>May I leave the past in the past and only live for a bigger, brighter future.</p><p>May I take my goals and allow them to grow to higher places. [This world is big enough for an even bigger Alexandra]</p><p>May I .love. with all my heart and give love to the ones who will adore it in return.</p><p>May I have hope, may I have greater faith, and may I have stronger, deeper courage.</p><p>May I have more patience each day and continually allow people to bless me.</p><p>May I live my life fearless in knowing that there IS a plan for my life.</p><p>May I grow in Spirit, in knowledge, and in wisdom so that in 2012 I can be even greater than I am today.</p><p></p></blockquote><br /><br />With hopes that you all live life to your fullest this year, and that you take the life that you are given and make a difference in someones life. We are all here to be better, and use our own individual talents to help those around us.<br />Go out and make more of your life this year. . . I challenge you.<br /><br />a. elizabethalexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-54430626815653566032011-01-06T19:44:00.000-08:002011-01-06T20:06:03.225-08:00Wasted Time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbaOolbvhGN5JAyTYcStQa8yBMPRpHCJ33bX-fGcU3bGBEFn3mzKiFTLkPhsuPU4iBQ9fsbn4ujbwtIGpP5vfCsHl6GLHt5ozwpo1dIKE2aFTWKBpXYFe8xoxZzgZPKEzReu5wiY7g44GI/s1600/IMG_3996.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 444px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbaOolbvhGN5JAyTYcStQa8yBMPRpHCJ33bX-fGcU3bGBEFn3mzKiFTLkPhsuPU4iBQ9fsbn4ujbwtIGpP5vfCsHl6GLHt5ozwpo1dIKE2aFTWKBpXYFe8xoxZzgZPKEzReu5wiY7g44GI/s320/IMG_3996.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559290113444865250" border="0" /></a><br />People always worry about <span style="border-bottom: 2px dotted rgb(54, 99, 136); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1294371581_0">wasting time</span> and say things like 'time is of the essence.'<br />Why is time such a worry? Why must it not be wasted? What makes time 'of the essence'?<br /><br />Essence is defined as the most essential or vital part of something. So, people are saying that time is most important in their lives.. Well this may very well be true. Time is very important in our lives, we do not get time back and each moment can be used to be bigger and better. Time is a great thing but what gives us this time? How do we make sure that we still have this part of life that is the most essential thing for us?<br /><br />Our life is measured in heartbeats... With each new breath and each new heartbeat you have more life, you have more time. The very core of our time to be better, to live longer, and experience more things is all based on the amount of time our heart gives us with each beat.<br /><br />Sitting here thinking about wasted time and asking myself, 'why did you even bother <span style="border-bottom: 2px dotted rgb(54, 99, 136); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1294371581_1">wasting your time</span>,' I began to think about what was worst... The wasted time or the wasted heartbeats that were put into the experience?<br /><br />I thought about brokenness and healing time and dug deep into what really mattered. I came to a personal conclusion that...<blockquote></blockquote> To me the time does not matter. Waste all my time that you want... But shame on you for wasting my heartbeats and my own gift of life that was being measured in each breath. Shame on you for <span style="border-bottom: 2px dotted rgb(54, 99, 136); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1294371581_2">wasting my time</span> in the heartbeats that come after that are needed to fix the hurt that was caused.<br /><br />Go ahead and waste the time... Waste the minutes in the days and the hours in the weeks... But think about the core, the heart, the soul, the feelings and emotions behind the time that you are wasting. Is it fair? I really don't think it is at all.<br /><br />-alexandra masonalexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-52827753064224714512011-01-04T19:14:00.000-08:002011-01-04T19:20:09.478-08:00This New Year, I am going to be different!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "><blockquote type="cite" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 40px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 40px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; display: block; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><blockquote type="cite" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 40px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 40px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; display: block; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"></span></span><span style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><blockquote></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Dr Phil proclaimed, "The way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you may have started and have never finished."</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote></blockquote><br /></span></span><span style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So... I looked around my house to see all the things I started and hadn't finished. B</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">efore leaving the house this morning, I:</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(a) finished off a bottle of </span></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1294197224_19" style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); cursor: pointer; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">White Zinfandel</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">,</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(b) a bottle of Bailey's </span></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1294197224_20" style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); cursor: pointer; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Irish Cream</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, </span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(c) a package of </span></span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1294197224_21" style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; cursor: pointer; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial; border-bottom-color: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Oreos</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">,</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(d) the remainder of my old Prozac prescription, </span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(e) the rest of the cheesecake, </span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(f) some Doritos, </span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(g) a box of chocolates,</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(h) and a half bottle of scotch.</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">****You have no idea how freaking good I feel right now.</span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Happy New Year!!!</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"></span></span></div></blockquote></div></blockquote><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><blockquote type="cite" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 40px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 40px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; display: block; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.2em; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div></blockquote></div></div></span>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-9764991986781304662010-12-27T18:12:00.000-08:002010-12-27T18:55:24.945-08:00When Snow Comes In The Middle of The Summer<blockquote></blockquote>Everything was just how she had planned. Perfect job, perfect car, perfect pets, perfect town, and perfect schedule. It was all so easy. Living to her was routine and she loved it because, she was comfortable. <div><br /></div><div>"She had set her own destiny," people might say. She lived by, "If it is meant to be. . . it will happen," and that made her content. </div><div><br /></div><div>She had her way with words, she was great. What she felt, she told. In turn, she hoped that her open-ended message would allow them to think they had a choice but really would just lead them to hers instead. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What it left her was brokenness and disbelief. It was snow in the middle of summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is only so far someone can go before they have to stop. When pressure is kept on something it soon will fall over. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the middle of summer she never would have thought this would happen. Everything was just where it needed to be. She was growing up, staying strong, and living her life in a way that kept her schedule planned and not too far off key. She had done the things she needed to do, and said her "God's will" where it needed to be said. Life was going how she had it planned...</div><div><br /></div><div>Then it snowed right in the middle of her damn summer. Smacked her in the face when she least expected it. She should have known... </div><div><br /></div><div>She realized this, that life is not by schedule. Life is not planned. Each day is a new day, a new dawn, and a new chance to be better than she was the day before. She stopped living by what she thought was going to happen and started living by what she felt in that moment. She turned left when others were saying "right". She said "yes" when everyone else was saying "no". She was doing things differently and that was when she realized that life isn't destined by your own plans, and your own hopes. Of course you can turn left when others are telling you right, but in the end you will still get to where you are supposed to be going. </div><div><br /></div><div>We all think that if we make this choice or tell this person this thing that it will change everything.. it doesn't. && that is what she realized... that after all her words and after giving all her heart and vulnerability it really could end in a way other than she thought. </div><div><br /></div><div>She thought that it was all going to happen how she had it planned.. she was wrong. She shouldn't have ever put it past her that it possibly could end up snowing in the middle of the summer.</div><div><br /></div><div>-alexandra elizabeth</div><div><br /></div>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-34810717474217663652010-07-25T12:50:00.000-07:002010-07-25T13:24:15.871-07:00It Isn't Easy, And It Isn't Clear<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><blockquote></blockquote>"I wish I was a twin," is what most people tell me when they find out that I am one. "What is it like? Can you read each others minds? Is it true that one can feel the others pain?"</span><br /><blockquote></blockquote><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It has taken me 20 years to answer these questions, yes. Yes, we can read each others minds. Yes, I can feel her pain and she can feel mine. And yes, she is the biggest, greatest gift that God gave me in this world.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><blockquote></blockquote><br />Yesterday was my 20th birthday. Two decades on this earth, what an awesome blessing.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The first call I received was from a friend. I picked up to sobs, "He's dead, Roman died last night." I couldn't even talk to him, I didn't believe it.</span><br /><blockquote></blockquote><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It took Millie and I all day to finally grasp that our 'Boi,' her </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfT5t3F35VGVoqpCV-mqCEnEsd5LaZN7hVEb12pQ_gkTrGIBu6eKCVaLczHolmN2QsSUxTHGJv-3p_E2AdB7ry1aV7ahZhqcFcs-0OBCE9H8468c7-AIn3P2CFDh6Z1Lda4kWuSEViyNI/s1600/5074_97352376817_613796817_2120763_2646894_n-1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 284px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfT5t3F35VGVoqpCV-mqCEnEsd5LaZN7hVEb12pQ_gkTrGIBu6eKCVaLczHolmN2QsSUxTHGJv-3p_E2AdB7ry1aV7ahZhqcFcs-0OBCE9H8468c7-AIn3P2CFDh6Z1Lda4kWuSEViyNI/s320/5074_97352376817_613796817_2120763_2646894_n-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497939861723274530" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">boy, our Romeo had passed away. . . on our birthday of all days. Roman Limonchenko was a friend that will never be forgotten. Ever since the moment I met him I loved him. God put it on my heart to love this boy like my brother, and that's exactly what I did. He was one of the most giving guys I know. Everywhere we went he was paying for everyone, making sure everyone had a good time and that his girls; Alex, Melle, and Coco, were taken care of. He LOVED ME BACK.</span><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggmHkyINhHN6E9BWifFPZhFLz3C6hlvVT3wUZ9PG3-DfPIMP7eTDdDPBaWWYHrXJILJYkHRTPMjxHa0fFn2LaaveQN5rKGJknZUdjsC04ueF4oEEkEzT9w5X-o0c794jpRcJE4UGUTBF2H/s1600/5074_97352376817_613796817_2120763_2646894_n-1.jpg"><blockquote></blockquote><br /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">All of this made me look back at my life. The crazy life that I live and realize that I don't think I would have made it without Melle, my twin. We've been through more than I can even think of and I know that it wasn't my strength that got me through, it was hers.</span><br /><blockquote></blockquote><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She's my best friend. I can read her mind and understand her mumbles that no one else can understand. I know what she's thinking and will always be there when she is sad. She is the exact match for me. We were made for each other. We were given each other as a gift because God knew that we would never make it on our own.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">She's my strength and I am hers.</span><br /><blockquote></blockquote><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Most people say, "I came into this world alone, and I'll leave this world alone. . ."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">As I sit here on this flight back to Orlando, I smile because . . . I didn't.</span>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-37538038799584114492010-06-29T06:16:00.000-07:002010-06-29T06:30:13.505-07:00Blind Sumerians<span style="font-weight: bold;">Today I am digging up this thought from last fall.<br /><br /></span>"This morning I woke up with the type of joy many people crave for... Thankful for the new day that our God gave us, I woke up and got ready for class. By the time I made it to breakfast I had even more JOY than I had woken up with. How GREAT is our God?<br />On this 18th day of November.. I will live it just like normal..<br />class and work; the non-stop timeline.<br /><br />Only one more week until we go home to enjoy one of the great holidays of America. Thanksgiving, a day we celebrate to remember the Pilgrims who came over and started this country we call America. The country where garments are made to a size no hungry child can imagine.. Where gold and silver fall out of our pockets like lint. A country that has more idols than the blind Sumerians. The people and the streets are no different than the wretched gimcracks of Rome.<br /><br />Freedom is the least of our worries when there is no peace.<br /><br />So, as a prayer, I pray for our free country. She depicts a prison. I pray she will one day become different, That the people will stand up and go against the grain. That our beautiful country will one day strive to be original. This is a prayer that aches for world peace and no partiality.<br /><div style="text-align: left;">This "new world" we live in has contorted to the ways of the Romans and Greeks. As Americans we can be different and not strive to be the ones who have it all.. because after all, in the end, these things we call ours are all just worthless pieces of matter that take up space here on earth."<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlR08hcqRO5RggYLt18bde49RFd71PbyqXZKpEq6mLlcHlCTzp0VuJHZz4WqnSOhDLFYnPRINl6f80II7cTdPbsS4-DhIoEhL21VGcr1CY6QcBlT1iLlN00VOCdERcNkuObctCIiULiEh2/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlR08hcqRO5RggYLt18bde49RFd71PbyqXZKpEq6mLlcHlCTzp0VuJHZz4WqnSOhDLFYnPRINl6f80II7cTdPbsS4-DhIoEhL21VGcr1CY6QcBlT1iLlN00VOCdERcNkuObctCIiULiEh2/s320/photo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488187225008254082" border="0" /></a></div>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-20465398865831865252010-06-28T12:04:00.000-07:002010-06-28T12:19:09.882-07:00My Drive Home to Mt Dora<span style="font-family:verdana;"> The drive from Gainesville to Mt Dora is one that I often take. The more I think about it I c</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">ould drive it with my eyes closed. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> <br /><br /> Today, while I was driving down i75, all I could do was sit and talk to Papa. Whether it was through the words in the music or quiet prayers to Him, I </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">spent that hour and a half with our God. It’s funny how I catch myself singing some of the most beautiful love songs written to a woman by her lover as if I have writt</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">en them myself. . . just for our King. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> About halfway through the drive a song came on.<br /> A song I have heard a thousand times and usually skip over because i</span><span style="font-family:verdana;">t is so overplayed. This time, however, I let it play. I listened to the words by ‘<span style="font-weight: bold;">Big Daddy Weave</span>’ and tears began to overwhelm me. In their song <span style="font-style: italic;">What Life Would B</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">e Like</span> they say,</span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">“</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TtZ4tZvPoNelkQRwUW3iQbsLn3WGojFrd-u2RmNGR14dy9_OW0dhlCGxd_uc5ujpLsYJvwnW1yuXKPKzznxVojJgYSOiDPjPKNx2F8kYtIsurEa6xvjNOoLhdIhSRy_1-ljGtAZPJ3bY/s1600/IMG_8466.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 455px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7TtZ4tZvPoNelkQRwUW3iQbsLn3WGojFrd-u2RmNGR14dy9_OW0dhlCGxd_uc5ujpLsYJvwnW1yuXKPKzznxVojJgYSOiDPjPKNx2F8kYtIsurEa6xvjNOoLhdIhSRy_1-ljGtAZPJ3bY/s320/IMG_8466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487905700699312338" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">He made the lame walk and the dumb talk</span></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >And He opened blinded eyes to s</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >ee</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >That the sun rises on His time</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Yet He knows our </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;">deepest desperate need.</span>”<blockquote></blockquote></span> </div> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> These words stuck out to me today and while I was sitting there thinking about my life and all the crazy bumps in it, I began to smile because I am not in control. As much as I stress about getting work resumes in, spending time with family, the health of my loved ones, and my education I have yet to remember that God is in control.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> <br /><br />“<span style="font-style: italic;">The sun rises on His time</span>,” that just puts a smile on my face. =] I immediately wrote my cousin Gabe and told him about those words.<br /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> “I am listening to this song and it just reminds me that this WHOLE </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> earth is God’s... </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"> All of it, He knows it all and made it all.<br /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">“It is so encouraging. . .<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> HIS LOVE</span>,” I said to him...<br /></span>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768361323170415882.post-31324571623783286332008-12-14T19:57:00.000-08:002008-12-14T20:01:03.529-08:00todaythere are often times when i think about how all i used to do was dwell in the past. think, "God life was so much easier back then..<br />i didnt have to stress about certain things<br />or pleasing certain people.<br />loving people seemed so much easier..<br />people loved me better back then,<br />life all around me seemed easy."<br />This past semester I realized that its not the past you need to dwell with and wish could come back.. its the present time you need to capture and use the time you are in to hope for the future.. to decide from:<br />the choices you made in the past,<br />the people that hurt you in your life,<br />the people you lost in life..<br />to make your future better. to improve your life for yourself. but most importantly improve it for God. -alex<br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2511ohpITM&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2511ohpITM&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>alexandra elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15120087545904916510noreply@blogger.com0