<?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-2447106146030368588</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:35:46.939-05:00</updated><category term='lotr'/><category term='sweden'/><category term='music'/><category term='procrastination'/><category term='poem'/><category term='purpose'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='deep thoughts'/><title type='text'>Go Tell It Like A Chronicle</title><subtitle type='html'>I am being forced to grow up.  This is my life, one post at a time.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-2825450504580577212</id><published>2011-02-27T14:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T14:12:12.164-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bahahahaha, good new years resolution from OVER TWO YEARS AGO, Adam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-2825450504580577212?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/2825450504580577212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=2825450504580577212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/2825450504580577212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/2825450504580577212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2011/02/bahahahaha-good-new-years-resolution.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-1072542532158836592</id><published>2009-01-02T12:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T12:56:54.434-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Maybe my new years resolution will be to post here more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-1072542532158836592?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/1072542532158836592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=1072542532158836592' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1072542532158836592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1072542532158836592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2009/01/maybe-my-new-years-resolution-will-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-5817148523220922429</id><published>2008-11-30T21:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T21:18:25.186-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like I'm missing out on what life actually is, because I'm wasting my time doing "stuff", and waiting for my "real life" to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A longer post to come soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-5817148523220922429?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/5817148523220922429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=5817148523220922429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/5817148523220922429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/5817148523220922429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-feel-like-im-missing-out-on-what-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-1806987035132390669</id><published>2008-10-20T00:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T00:23:25.766-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purpose'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lotr'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, there are a couple things I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to do, like be in a band, but most of them are quite unlikely (I lack musical ability, etc etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even beyond that, I don't even know if what I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to do is what I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; be doing (that is, God's plan for me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was praying earlier, and I told God I wished He would just tell me what my purpose was because I was sick of not knowing.  But as I was saying that, I realized something.  Maybe God will let me know what my purpose is when I'm ready to fulfill that purpose.  Maybe the confusion and the stumbling around in the dark is the journey to whatever destination He has in mind.  Maybe the journey is as important as the destination, because if I could just teleport to the destination then I wouldn't have been shaped by the journey when I got there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://xkcd.com/365/"&gt;Bear with me for a moment&lt;/a&gt;, and think about Frodo from Lord of the Rings.  If he could have just teleported to Mt. Doom to drop the ring in, he probably wouldn't have done it.  Even in the story he got there and changed his mind, and didn't willingly destroy it.  But throughout the entire story, his interactions with Gollum/Smeagol shaped the both of them.  If Frodo or Sam had killed him, or gotten rid of him at any number of points during the story, then Frodo would've ended up keeping the ring and it wouldn't have been destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, that was quite a dodgy analogy, but I think that if you think about it for a bit, you'll get what I'm trying to say here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The revelation gave me some comfort, because now it's sort of as if this "purposless meandering" actually IS my purpose, in a weird sort of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though on the other hand, God could be throwing up obvious signs all over the place, and I just don't see them / ignore them out of my selfish ambition and ignorance...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-1806987035132390669?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/1806987035132390669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=1806987035132390669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1806987035132390669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1806987035132390669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-have-no-idea-what-im-supposed-to-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-6555618801660525292</id><published>2008-10-13T01:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T01:15:35.545-05:00</updated><title type='text'>campcampcampcampcamping</title><content type='html'>I love:&lt;br /&gt;1) Camping&lt;br /&gt;2) My friends from home&lt;br /&gt;3) Camping with my friends from home&lt;br /&gt;pics:  &lt;span&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004214&amp;amp;l=8263f&amp;amp;id=1256760007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking lately...&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to drop Psychology as my 2nd major, and study abroad in Sweden...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I would like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-6555618801660525292?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/6555618801660525292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=6555618801660525292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/6555618801660525292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/6555618801660525292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/10/campcampcampcampcamping.html' title='campcampcampcampcamping'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-3244462556146970484</id><published>2008-10-08T01:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T01:37:03.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Church, or something like it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(Wrote this August 24 - eek, long time ago.  Also note:  Rich is one of my roommates/friends.  We went to HS together, too.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I finally have time to put some thoughts together – I'm riding the train back to Chicago after spending the weekend at home.  I went home because my brother got a job at Google, and we had a going away party for him.  He is moving out to San Jose later this week, which is incredibly strange.  He is the typical super-nerd: really smart and motivated, but quite introverted and quiet in social settings.  He is the oldest child (26 now), and he has been living at home the last 4 years since graduating college, with a good job (but not Google good!).  My mom is basically freaking out, because now that he's moving to California, my sister is married and in Columbus, my other brother is living in Holland, and I'm living in Chicago, the house is basically going to be empty (a huge adjustment).  I hope she and my dad handle everything okay, they're good strong Christians but “losing” your kids is probably pretty rough (it's rough on me, I miss them already).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; But anyways, back to the thoughts that I said I'd write about like...2 weeks ago (I don't know exactly when, since I can't get online and check when I posted that).  They have mostly to do with my lack of motivation to really get involved in a church here in Chicago.  I was talking to Rich a while ago about our churches back home, and he said he really had no draw or commitment to that church.  I, on the other hand, really care about my church at home.  I still love going there, even though things have been rocky lately.  A lot of my friends still go there, the same friends that got me through my adolescent nightmare, and arguably my “bffs”.  I still feel really close to it, even though now that I live in Chicago I'll probably only be there a couple times a year.   &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; Now, Rich really likes the church he goes to here in Chicago.  Presumably, he gets the feeling of community from there, which is kind of the point of church (community of believers, etc etc).  I've been there several times, and it's okay, but I'm not a huge fan.  I've also been to a few other churches down here, but none of them have really drawn me in.  I wasn't really sure why until I had that talk with Rich, and now I think it's because I'm still so connected to my “home” church.  I still feel like I'm part of that community, so I don't feel the need to pursue a “new” community to be a part of.  I get some Christian support from people at school in IV, which is filling the gap enough for me to not really dive into a church here.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I kind of dread Sunday mornings now, because I kind of feel like a “bad Christian” for not desiring to go to church.  I'd much rather spend my time alone with the Bible/God at home or the park instead of at a place where I don't feel like I belong, a place that I don't feel comfortable, a place &lt;i&gt;isn't the building I spent the first 18 years of my life in.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;  I feel so at peace in my church at home.  I've spent so much time there, I just feel like it's where I belong.  I have an enormous amount of good memories there, from church itself to youth group to just hanging out there with the best friends I've ever had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; So my question is, is it bad that I'm not actively searching for a new church?  I know God calls us to be a part of the Christian community, I'm not disputing that.  But what if I already feel like I'm secure in a Christian community that is based around a church 150 miles away?  Maybe I'm just afraid of becoming a part of a new community.  Maybe I'm scared that I'll leave my other friends behind if I get involved in a new place, and make new friends that are closer in proximity.  Maybe I'm just scared of the unknown.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-3244462556146970484?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/3244462556146970484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=3244462556146970484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/3244462556146970484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/3244462556146970484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/10/church-or-something-like-it.html' title='Church, or something like it'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-797102260929942143</id><published>2008-10-07T01:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T01:35:08.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've always "known" the God is real, that He is there, like I "know" that 2+2=4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I knew God was real in they way someone with Synesthesia knows that 2+2=4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-797102260929942143?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/797102260929942143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=797102260929942143' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/797102260929942143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/797102260929942143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-always-known-god-is-real-that-he-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-7173610164989773416</id><published>2008-09-25T16:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T16:17:17.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY AM I SO BAD AT UPDATING THIS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.  I even wrote a bunch of stuff like...a month ago that I was going to post on here.  I have them written!  and saved!  I just need to look them over and make sure they make sense :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I saw Sigur Ros last night at the Chicago Theater.  Afterwards, I met them and talked very very briefly.  About long enough to get them to sign my cd and get pics with them.  It was pretty much.....amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-7173610164989773416?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/7173610164989773416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=7173610164989773416' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7173610164989773416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7173610164989773416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/09/crap.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-1132040400521210686</id><published>2008-08-18T23:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T23:10:33.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; haven't had time to get my thoughts organized and posted on here.  Seriously...where has all my time gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a really quick update - school starts Thursday (yikes!), and yesterday was "move in day".  That means all my friends are back now...which is good.  yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-1132040400521210686?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/1132040400521210686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=1132040400521210686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1132040400521210686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1132040400521210686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-still-havent-had-time-to-get-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-8399662901137275819</id><published>2008-08-12T23:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T00:00:05.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are only a few things in life I enjoy more than riding my bike.  Feeling the blood pump through my legs and the wind breezing through my hair, I just love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight Lory and I rode our bikes to Grant Park for the Movie in the Park.  They played Touch of Evil, from 1958.  It was kind of a ridiculous movie, and by kind of I mean ridiculously.  It was fun though, which is what counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I've been thinking about stuff a lot lately.  Hopefully I'll get some time tomorrow to put some of it down into words on here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also: o/\o = high five!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-8399662901137275819?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/8399662901137275819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=8399662901137275819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8399662901137275819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8399662901137275819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/08/there-are-only-few-things-in-life-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-7708717022160421860</id><published>2008-07-31T20:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T21:46:06.443-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deep thoughts'/><title type='text'>Growing Up</title><content type='html'>"Growing up" has just hit me like a brick wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I was sitting alone in my apartment.  My mom left about 15 minutes prior to go back home (3 hour trip).  One roommate hasn't moved in yet.  The other roommate was out doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never felt like that when I got left in the dorms.  There was always other rooms with people milling about.  Not always people I knew, but at least they were making noise.  It was just so...quiet then.  No, not really quiet, because the fan was on and I could hear noises.  It just felt...empty.  Like I was, for once, totally alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also weird, though, because sitting there alone, I feel like I had some revelations about "life as an adult."  I love Fight Club, and the scene at the beginning where Ed Norton was talking about filling his apartment with stuff as his "life" suddenly made complete sense.  I felt like I finally knew &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; what he felt like in that scene.  I was sitting there having a mini existential crisis, contemplating who I was and what my place in the world was, and all I could think about was how empty my "home" was.  My first two thoughts were to fill it up with stuff, or just veg out in front of the TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, I have no money to buy things, and my TV isn't hooked up to anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sat there longer, feeling more and more lonely.  The emptiness in my apartment started creeping into my body.  I started listening to Brand New.  I got sad.  For the first time, I really missed my family.  Right before leaving, my mom and I were playing Super Rub-A-Dub on my ps3.  It was hilarious, and we were having fun.  Hearing the game's background music made me sadder.  I tried to distract myself from things by surfing the internet.  Then the internet got boring, as it usually does when I'm using it to distract myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm recalling a memory of something that happened last winter break when I was at home.  The post-high/20-something group of people at my church went to the ice rink to go skating, so I went along.  It was fun enough, and afterwards we went back to church to eat some desserts and stuff.  Sitting there, watching the others drink coffee and play cards, I thought to myself "Is this really what grown ups do for fun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was astounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does growing up seem mean the death of fun?  Last night I felt a glimpse of what it was like to be an adult, doing adult things.  Being responsible for a place to live.  I feel it even more so today, after getting home from work to a once again empty apartment.  Life drones on and on, monotonously shuffling from day to day, week to week, year to year.  I remember reading a quote somewhere, something about how when you let one moment of your life become meaningless, you let every moment become meaningless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not how I want to live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-7708717022160421860?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/7708717022160421860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=7708717022160421860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7708717022160421860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7708717022160421860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/07/growing-up.html' title='Growing Up'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-8526020028665856529</id><published>2008-05-15T23:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T23:29:26.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbroked</title><content type='html'>Adam meets girl.&lt;br /&gt;Adam likes girl.&lt;br /&gt;Girl likes Adam.&lt;br /&gt;Girl is leaving for who knows how long.&lt;br /&gt;Adam is sad.&lt;br /&gt;Girl says everything will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;Adam is bitter and remembers all the other times he heard that, and then it didn't turn out okay.&lt;br /&gt;Adam gets sadder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;qq :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-8526020028665856529?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/8526020028665856529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=8526020028665856529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8526020028665856529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8526020028665856529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/05/heartbroked.html' title='Heartbroked'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-4379715341855950655</id><published>2008-05-03T16:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T17:06:16.309-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really really really want it to thunderstorm, so I can go outside in the downpouring rain and play like a 5 year old.  Well, maybe not a 5 year old, but it would be nice to carelessly enjoy getting soaked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one time, several years ago.  I was probably around 12, and it was during the summer.  Either Memorial Day, or the Fourth of July, if I recall it correctly.  My mom's side of the family was over, and we were swimming and doing stuff in the afternoon, and it started raining.  I remember it was awesome though, because the rain was really warm.  I was in my swim suit already, but I remember I got out of the pool and just went and laid in the road.  The road was warm from the sun, and the warm rain drops were coming down hard and fast.  Then we played some basketball in the rain, and it was terrible...yet awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up...who needs it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-4379715341855950655?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/4379715341855950655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=4379715341855950655' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/4379715341855950655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/4379715341855950655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-really-really-really-want-it-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-8047099741322992686</id><published>2008-04-25T01:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T01:53:37.511-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ick</title><content type='html'>I've been feeling pretty down lately, and I think I know why.  I'm not a fan of myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like this girl.&lt;br /&gt;I think this girl really likes me.&lt;br /&gt;I have mouth constipation.&lt;br /&gt;Poop (contextually)?&lt;br /&gt;I wish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-8047099741322992686?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/8047099741322992686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=8047099741322992686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8047099741322992686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8047099741322992686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/04/ick.html' title='ick'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-8925216898139918045</id><published>2008-03-25T00:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T00:26:34.474-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sweden'/><title type='text'>Procrastination</title><content type='html'>This is what I do when I have no idea how to do my complex math homework, and have run out of other forms of procrastination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about studying abroad in Sweden for a semester.  Thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It's funny, because I'm asking for the reader's opinions, and there are no readers.  Ha!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-8925216898139918045?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/8925216898139918045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=8925216898139918045' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8925216898139918045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/8925216898139918045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/03/procrastination.html' title='Procrastination'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-4533113143614527021</id><published>2008-03-05T21:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T21:06:09.751-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why am I so insecure?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-4533113143614527021?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/4533113143614527021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=4533113143614527021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/4533113143614527021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/4533113143614527021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-am-i-so-insecure.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-7965429176961649554</id><published>2008-02-05T22:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T22:54:09.674-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You're blocking my view</title><content type='html'>"She said kiss me.  I said youre blocking my view.  &lt;p&gt;She said the stars will always be there.  I said its not the stars, its the meteor shower, and it happens only once a year.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She flopped back and sighed.  We were laying on the roof underneath her bedroom window. The rolling New York farmlands were all around us. We could hear nothing but crickets and the wind through the trees. I put my arm behind her and pulled her toward me. My other arm pointed upward. Do you see that star? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She looked up in silence.  Her eyes brimmed with tears.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One day, Im going &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;to that star, I said.  Its not a good idea to fall in love when you're going so far away.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She turned and got&lt;a title="I am giving you every opportunity to let me down" href="http://everything2.com/index.pl?node=I%20am%20giving%20you%20every%20opportunity%20to%20let%20me%20down" class="populated"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; on her hands and knees above me, her hands sandwiching my jaw, looking directly at me, her tears falling on my face.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Its not a good idea to go so far away when you leave behind the one who loves you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Overhead the stars twinkled and beckoned.  The crickets sang.  The wind kept blowing."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Shamelessly stolen from &lt;a href="http://everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1753470"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.  I thought it was...beautiful?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-7965429176961649554?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/7965429176961649554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=7965429176961649554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7965429176961649554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7965429176961649554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/02/she-said-kiss-me.html' title='You&apos;re blocking my view'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-6524992195391166377</id><published>2008-02-03T11:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T11:31:00.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops</title><content type='html'>See, this is why keeping a blog is so hard for me.  I always forget to update it!  Here's basically what's happened in the last month and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Christmas was great&lt;br /&gt;-New Years was great&lt;br /&gt;-Friends at home are great&lt;br /&gt;-Finally got back to school&lt;br /&gt;-Lots of work now, but lot's of fun too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to put something decent here later, when I'm not swamped with homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-6524992195391166377?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/6524992195391166377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=6524992195391166377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/6524992195391166377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/6524992195391166377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2008/02/oops.html' title='Oops'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-1332418694102856683</id><published>2007-12-18T22:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T22:39:25.844-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;Thursday night, Wealthy Theater in downtown G-Rap is screening Sigur R&lt;/span&gt;ó&lt;span&gt;s' movie Heima.  It's a documentary of sorts, chronicling their tour of Iceland in 2006.  'Heima' means both "at home", and "homeland", which is exactly what it's about.  After touring in support of 'Takk...', the band headed home to play a series of shows, mostly unannounced, free to anyone who showed up.  They played all around Iceland, and ended up playing both their smallest, and largest, shows ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am REALLY excited to see it.  First of all, Iceland is an absolutely beautiful place.  Second, Sigur Ros makes such amazing music...I can honestly say that I will never tire of hearing it.  If you haven't ever listened to them, go do yourself a favor and check out their myspace (www.myspace.com/sigurros).  Last time I was there, they had their new double disc release, Hvarf/Heim, up to stream.  It. Is. Beautiful.  Third, I was totally pumped to watch this video in my room, on my tv with crappy surround sound hooked up.  In a theater = 99999999 times better.  Gigantic screen, surrounded by fellow Sigur R&lt;/span&gt;ós lovers, getting both visually and aurally assaulted by something beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday night will be AMAZING.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-1332418694102856683?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/1332418694102856683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=1332418694102856683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1332418694102856683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/1332418694102856683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2007/12/thursday-night-wealthy-theater-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-7605891754713658340</id><published>2007-12-12T01:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T01:56:25.074-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>poetry?  oh noetry!</title><content type='html'>a haiku, heavily influenced by e.e. cummings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weather gets colder&lt;br /&gt;i see (icy) drops in the puddles&lt;br /&gt;cherry blossoms freeze (snowman ninjas dance)&lt;br /&gt;((and revel in their benevolence))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-written by Adam and Katie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-7605891754713658340?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/7605891754713658340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=7605891754713658340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7605891754713658340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7605891754713658340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2007/12/poetry-oh-noetry.html' title='poetry?  oh noetry!'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-641506911090935983</id><published>2007-12-03T01:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T01:29:17.027-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Priceless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;I have a lot of music on CDs/my computer.  Some of it I used to be in love with, but slowly grew out of.  Some of it I still am in love with.  Some of it I've never listened to, and some of it I don't even like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been going back through some music I haven't listened to in a while...and I came across Copeland's version of "Do You Hear What I Hear".  This is one of my favorite Christmas songs of all time, and I absolutely LOVE what Copeland did with it.  Anyway, after listening to it, I decided I would listen to some more Copeland stuff...and man, not halfway through the first song and I can tell I'm going to be on a Copeland binge for the next few days.  Their music is seriously good stuff, check it out if you haven't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have come to the conclusion that there is too much good music in the world.  I think Heaven will be a place where I can listen to all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priceless is one of my favorite Copeland songs.  I remember hearing it when I saw them at the Knick in Holland (go Hope College Concert Series!  Yay Andy!), and I instantly became enamored with it.  Honestly, I don't think I'd listened to more than a couple Copeland songs before that night, I went to see The Tide.  But I heard this song...and was basically just blown away.  I love the imagery Aaron (singer) uses in the chorus.  "I need you...like dragonflies' wings need the wind.  Like the orphan needs home once again."  Hm.  So beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; I remember when I'd run to you&lt;br /&gt;In field of white flowers&lt;br /&gt;Your embrace is my air&lt;br /&gt;How I needed you there&lt;br /&gt;And all of the world and&lt;br /&gt;All of it's powers&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't keep your love from me no&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't keep your love from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I need you&lt;br /&gt;Like the dragonflies' wings need the wind&lt;br /&gt;Like the orphan needs home once again&lt;br /&gt;Like heaven needs more to come in&lt;br /&gt;I need you here like you've always been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I waved goodbye to you&lt;br /&gt;From a field of white flowers&lt;br /&gt;You were so proud of me&lt;br /&gt;I was too proud to see that&lt;br /&gt;All of the world and&lt;br /&gt;All of it's power&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't keep your love from me no&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't keep your love from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I need you&lt;br /&gt;Like the dragonflies' wings need the wind&lt;br /&gt;Like the orphan needs home once again&lt;br /&gt;Like heaven needs more to come in&lt;br /&gt;I need you here like you've always been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking for granted&lt;br /&gt;(taking for granted)&lt;br /&gt;And all of her smiles&lt;br /&gt;Could not be reminded&lt;br /&gt;You got away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm looking up to you&lt;br /&gt;From a field of white flowers&lt;br /&gt;You were so proud of me&lt;br /&gt;I'm so proud of you&lt;br /&gt;All of the world and&lt;br /&gt;All of it's power&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't keep your love from me no&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't keep your love from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I need you&lt;br /&gt;Like the dragonflies' wings need the wind&lt;br /&gt;Like the orphan needs home once again&lt;br /&gt;Like heaven needs more to come in&lt;br /&gt;I need you here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need you&lt;br /&gt;Like the dragonflies' wings need the wind&lt;br /&gt;Like the orphan needs home once again&lt;br /&gt;Like heaven needs more to come in&lt;br /&gt;I need you here like you've always been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La da da da...&lt;br /&gt;&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/2447106146030368588-641506911090935983?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/641506911090935983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=641506911090935983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/641506911090935983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/641506911090935983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2007/12/priceless.html' title='Priceless'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2447106146030368588.post-7583522938721420520</id><published>2007-11-06T03:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T03:58:44.402-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Obligatory nerd joke</title><content type='html'>Hello, World.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2447106146030368588-7583522938721420520?l=likeachronicle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/feeds/7583522938721420520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2447106146030368588&amp;postID=7583522938721420520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7583522938721420520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2447106146030368588/posts/default/7583522938721420520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://likeachronicle.blogspot.com/2007/11/obligatory-nerd-joke.html' title='Obligatory nerd joke'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15142579650141940327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Nn8ro4qrtiE/R89feRWxP6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c63Vih7Q8tc/S220/8751863.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
