<?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-1797984918418399724</id><updated>2012-01-19T19:34:06.966-08:00</updated><category term='Change'/><title type='text'>Always Love</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-3582254022148451339</id><published>2012-01-19T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T19:26:13.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JlAytaEoMPQ/Txje0EWdJII/AAAAAAAAAQw/Kdo7jpqo4A4/s1600/ShaneyElisabeth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JlAytaEoMPQ/Txje0EWdJII/AAAAAAAAAQw/Kdo7jpqo4A4/s320/ShaneyElisabeth.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699550314539852930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So My new goal of updating frequently has again eluded my talents, I don't know why those cute crafty things seem to have escaped me in my talents but I assure you I try.  So I promised everyone that I would give more information about Shane and me, so This time I would like to start with our vague past.  We were 3 when we first met, sitting on the front bench of the Milton Church Primary, you know  the old one with the stairs leading up to the primary and the room had long wood benches and its very own pulpit where many of the Petersens have given their first discourses.  well, there I sat with all the rest of the rowdy sunbeams when I looked to my right and saw a little boy sitting next to me with a little bowl haircut gracing the top of his round head and lots of little freckles.  This boy then stuck his tongue out at me! Well, my reaction was nothing that should have been surprising, I have always had the assertive disposition of a Petersen and I always will. I looked this little boy right in the face, his pointy little tongue sticking right out at me, and what did I do? Well of course I stuck my own tongue out and touched his tongue! we were quickly separated by out teachers who scolded us and I am sure parents were then informed...a little bit of a shady beginning having such a forbidden romance at 3 years old. Well, now lets skip ahead 12 years, to my freshman year of high school where I starred as homeless person number 3 in the wonderful production of "Annie" and there was some other boy who worked in the tech booth...I didn't know him really, I just knew that Sara the other tech person was always on her headphone talking to this kid in the tech booth making jokes the whole time during rehearsal.  I didn't see who she was talking to until the last night of the play when the cast decided to play spin the bottle afterward, when we all gathered in a circle and began to spin...well guess where the nozle landed when it got to that mysterious kid wearing the  hat with a feather in it? RIGHT ON ME! It was not as dramatic as our first kiss which had long been forgotten by this time. It was only a kiss on the cheek and I can't lie, it weirded me out! Keep in mind that I would not fall in love with him for many years.  In high school I thought he was a bit of an odd person, and I was always confused why he had such a plethora of friends always surrounding him....must have been something special right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-3582254022148451339?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/3582254022148451339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-my-new-goal-of-updating-frequently.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/3582254022148451339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/3582254022148451339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-my-new-goal-of-updating-frequently.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JlAytaEoMPQ/Txje0EWdJII/AAAAAAAAAQw/Kdo7jpqo4A4/s72-c/ShaneyElisabeth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-524307933003996936</id><published>2011-11-03T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T12:20:43.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8kiWgPWit5U/TrLpfPnbfBI/AAAAAAAAAJc/m9PgPdfe-lk/s1600/Invite%2B%25236%2Bcopy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8kiWgPWit5U/TrLpfPnbfBI/AAAAAAAAAJc/m9PgPdfe-lk/s320/Invite%2B%25236%2Bcopy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670851603790003218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, everyone. I know that my blog has been stagnant for about 2 years.  well it is my new goal to change all that and begin anew.  So let me update you very briefly on the whirlwind that has taken place in my life in these past couple of years.  &lt;div&gt;* I served a mission in Spain!  it was one of the best things I could have ever done. I spent three months in the Canary Islands, 10 months in madrid, and 3 more months in the ward that meets by the Spain, Madrid Temple.  and the rest of that time from the 18 months was spent in the MTC.  I  was doing the lords work for 18 months and it was absolutely amazing! there is nothing better....don't worry, i will later have more stories for you all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Second I got home from my mission and transferred to the University of Utah, where I will finish my music degree.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* I Got a new Job working at the institute as a night secretary. what a lovely place to work!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* I fell in Love with Shane York and will be getting married this Saturday to him in the Salt Lake Temple.  It has been a very fast three months of being back in the country!  But he has waited for me for a very long time, and I'm so glad he did! More stories will follow shortly! I love you all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-524307933003996936?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/524307933003996936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-everyone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/524307933003996936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/524307933003996936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-everyone.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8kiWgPWit5U/TrLpfPnbfBI/AAAAAAAAAJc/m9PgPdfe-lk/s72-c/Invite%2B%25236%2Bcopy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-2584187893801758530</id><published>2010-01-13T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T13:23:55.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WORST DATE!!!</title><content type='html'>Preparing for a mission can make one reminiscent.  I have so many stories I would love to share with you all... however I kind of want to make this one fun.  We are going to make it a battle of the stories!  This story is my crowning glory in dating advice!  I want to see if any of you can beat my bad date experience...because if you do you deserve a medal of honor! &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It was the summer after I graduated high school, I was working in the Womens clothing department at Walmart!  I was excited to have my own little sliver of independence and I was open to dating as many people as would ask me out!  Back then I gave everyone a "chance." (oh if I only knew!)  There were not many people working at Walmart who shared my same values so when I met Larry  I thought it would be ok to become his friend.  Larry worked in the big appliance section and I had seen him reading his scriptures in the break room.  I thought, he looks like a nice man maybe I can talk to him.  I personally believed that he was about 35 years old and that he would be a nice "older brother" figure for me as I sometimes worked the late shifts.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, we did become acquainted with each other and he asked me on a date,  I asked him how old he was and he informed me that he was not 25 ( I was ten years off).  Well, I thought about it, and me being the young naive girl that I was I accepted his offer for a date.  However, it was the week before we were to go on the date and he called me after I had gotten off work to finalize things.  we talked for a bit and then I told him I was tired and that I needed to get to bed.    He being the "sweet" person that he was, offered to sing me to sleep...I promptly refused but he was persistent and so I felt in order to get him off the phone I would have to comply.  Heaven help me, he sang for ten minutes straight making up the words and the tune as he went! I did my best to hold my riotous laughter in by halfway swallowing my pillow to my face.  And when he was done I was careful not to make a sound so that he would believe I was asleep.  He bid me goodnight and hung up the phone.....a scary realization was hitting me in that moment...I had a date with him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The night of the date came and I was to meet him in the Walmart parking lot. (after the fiasco a few nights earlier I didn't want him to know where I lived)  when he arrived he was wearing the same hawaiian shirt that  Dad sometimes wears to family barbecues.  I thought this was a wonderful start to the date...It was approximately six o'clock.  He took me miniature golfing, it was nice because we didn't have to be in too close of proximity to each other.  And I was armed with a steel putter in case things got shifty.  Miniature golf lasted 20 mins... and then they took my club away.  we got back into the car and he informed me that he had a surprise for me.  I froze as he began to reach....luckily into the back seat (whew!!!)  He pulled out a volume of poetry the size of  an Oxford dictionary and said " I know that you like poetry, why don't you have a look at this", "GREAT!!!" I thought, "Now I don't have to carry on a conversation!" I read intently for about ten minutes when he pulled into the parking lot of the D.I.  He looked at me and said, "for this next part we can either stay in the car or we can go outside."  My mind raced and I said,  "lets go outside it's a really pretty night."  (and it was right next to a busy road, that way, if he tried anything there would be cars full of eye witnesses! ) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got out and I sat on the grass (outside the D.I) and he began to rummage through his trunk and when he surfaced he was carrying a 3 ring binder with loose papers threatening to fall out of it.  He sat next to me and said "I have one very special surprise for you tonight"....I could not imagine what. He opened the binder and inside was every poem he had written in high school.  He began to read one to me...it was super sappy and was obviously a love poem dealing with a lot of physical touch and remembering the persons scent.  when he was done he asked who I thought he had written it for.  I remained stoic and naive as he told me solemnly that he had written it for his grandmother. most of the other poems were religious, and not to bad.  But then the "big one" came out as he pulled out a poem written for both a man and a woman.  He asked If I would like to read it together...and opted not to and was thankful afterward as the poem consisted of these two people confessing their deep love for each other.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After that he and I agreed that it was late and that we should probably call it a night, it was by this time 8:00.  He drove me back to my car and tried to strike up a meaningful conversation by asking me all sorts of questions.  then he informed me that it was my turn to ask him a question... I in all my 18 yr old stupidity asked the question..."what is something you normally wouldn't say on a first date?"  he replied that he had been put into a hospital, and I said that it wasn't that bad..people go to the hospital all the time right?....he looked at me again and his voice got deeper and he replied "not that kind of hospital"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize that this whole situation arose from my  own stupidity. and I realize that this guy really was doing the best he could with what he had. And I'm sure he is a really good person. He just didn't know quite how to plan a date and I was too young and too stupid.  Hopefully I have grown up a little since then.  but the experience taught me that i need to be more cautious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is advice to all women!  Don't say yes to any Kenmore guy who stares at you through the Maytags! and don't ever ask the question "What don't you normally tell someone on a first date?"........ trust me you are not going to like the answer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-2584187893801758530?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/2584187893801758530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2010/01/worst-date.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/2584187893801758530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/2584187893801758530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2010/01/worst-date.html' title='WORST DATE!!!'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-7396708338156207594</id><published>2009-12-08T13:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T13:19:09.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Sx7CxdNLIEI/AAAAAAAAACQ/oY6WlX5EayY/s1600-h/11441_1305572398812_1215575914_30902518_5367240_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 246px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Sx7CxdNLIEI/AAAAAAAAACQ/oY6WlX5EayY/s400/11441_1305572398812_1215575914_30902518_5367240_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412977957055176770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as you all know, last friday I got to play back up to David Archuleta.  How did this happen you might ask? Well this is what happened, earlier in the week my friend heather came and told me her secret. She had gotten a "gig" as we musicians call them, but she was hesitant to tell me what it was.  Finally I cracked her and she told me all about the David Archuleta concert.  I had known about it for a while as all of my roommates had gotten tickets except for me.  I never watched him on American Idol and I didn't really care...who needs another pop star anyway right? &lt;div&gt;However, on friday morning I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.  Two violinists (Both dudes) had dropped out of the orchestra and Sarah (the girl putting it together) was having a panic attack right in front of my work desk.  then as if in slow motion her head turned to acknowledge me sitting at my  computer.  She came up and asked me If I was feeling like a confident violinist at the moment.  (I told her YES of course)  and then she asked me to play with them that night.  Heather was right there and both of us got far to excited!  I promised I would never be one of "those" girls... ya know...a "groupie."  Well I skipped the rest of my classes to rehearse.  My professors didn't mind, they were just as excited as I was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was my first POP concert EVER and the best part about it was I was getting paid to go and I was in it!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was so sure that they were going to have him sing to a track and just have him mostly lip sync...but NO!  He doesn't do that! he has such a good voice and he is very kind and loves his family a ton!  I know cause I saw how he reacted when they came up to him after the concert.  So If you buy the His new Christmas Album...all the orchestral parts in the background...those are me.  Well, at least at the concert they were me.  yup so thats that....It was fun...Ya jealous?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-7396708338156207594?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/7396708338156207594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-as-you-all-know-last-friday-i-got-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/7396708338156207594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/7396708338156207594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-as-you-all-know-last-friday-i-got-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Sx7CxdNLIEI/AAAAAAAAACQ/oY6WlX5EayY/s72-c/11441_1305572398812_1215575914_30902518_5367240_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-1569470855109152349</id><published>2009-11-25T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T09:14:42.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Sw63aOMz4hI/AAAAAAAAABs/SZxUkw0JCOU/s1600/roys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Sw63aOMz4hI/AAAAAAAAABs/SZxUkw0JCOU/s320/roys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408461863634854418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have all been to one of those restaurants where you walk in and you know that somehow, inside that place your life might change for good. Well I had one of those experiences the other night.  Ben had so kindly looked up an authentic spanish restaurant for us to go to!  so about five thirty we packed up the kids and headed out.  this was my first taste of maryland traffic...I was very slow going.  However, we finally found the place...but, there was a sign on the front door. Diana got out into the rain to read the sign, only to find out that the only day the restaurant was closed was on mondays...Lucky us, it was monday! So we headed off to find another place to eat.  We ended up at a little place in called "Roys Place."  We walked in out of the rain and were quickly shown to our seats because, we were the only ones in the place...unless you count the busboy and his friends.  &lt;div&gt;We opened up our menu's and proceeded reading off the names of all the sandwiches.  Some of the names however, were less than reputable like,  "mothers distress", or maybe "delilah the obscene!"  Finally after scanning the 200 choices of sandwiches, half of which included "tongue" in them we came to our decisions!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It didn't take long for our food to get there, after all we were the only customers at the time.  the sandwiches were huge, held together with toothpicks that could be replaced as jousting spears!  I bit into my sandwich and wasn't all to bad.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was about halfway through with my sandwich when I unfortunately looked up. Above me upon the wall there was the biggest, harriest moose you could ever imagine.  It's nostrils were flared as if it was about to charge right through the wall onto our table.  It's eyes were big and glassy looking at the scene before it with scrutinizing eyes!  But last of all I noticed a thick band of moldy looking duct tape wrapped around the muzzle of the enormous bull moose.   Upon closer examination I realized the purpose for the bad of tape... The jaws of the moose had been compromised and had at one point fallen of the original head...yes thats right!  The JAW had been lagging and walloping so fervently that it had at one point fallen off, no doubt onto the very table we were sitting at!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sheepishly I looked down at my stomach and my mind flashed violently back to images of reading that menu and seeing the word "TONGUE" printed all over the pages of riskay sandwiches!  I knew for a fact that I could not finish the last half of my sandwich...and as we heard the train barrel past the restaurant outside I knew I would never forget this experience.  I don't regret eating at this restaurant one bit...when we left I was laughing hysterically and Bella and Lucy must have thought that I was absolutely insane.   Diana got mad at me for laughing,  but she was laughing as well.  It was an experience to be remebered! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-1569470855109152349?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/1569470855109152349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-have-all-been-to-one-of-those.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/1569470855109152349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/1569470855109152349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-have-all-been-to-one-of-those.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Sw63aOMz4hI/AAAAAAAAABs/SZxUkw0JCOU/s72-c/roys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-291254938501051864</id><published>2009-11-25T22:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T23:13:08.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My trip to Washington D.C was incredible!  It was my first time flying alone and it made me feel very "independent."  As I walked off the plane I was so excited to see Diana, Bellie and Lu!   We had an absolutely marvelous time.  Diana and I went to the temple that same night,  and I have to say that the washington D.C. temple is by the most beautiful temple I have been in so far.  If any of you have driven past it on the freeway you can understand why...one minute you are driving on this windy road surrounded by trees, then the next moment you are blinded by sheer heavenly light issuing from the most glorious building! &lt;div&gt;   On monday after Bella got home from school we decided to have a party.  This party consisted of hot chocolate and the Tinkerbell movie! We had a grand ol' time there watching Tink save pixie hollow from missing spring!  Then that night Ben and Diana took me to dinner (see following post)  and Diana and I went to go see "New Moon."  I love my family so much!  they love me even though they know how weird I am and Vice versa!  We have a really weird family! however...we all are quite a bit alike...even if we don't realize or admit it.  I had so much fun with diana as she showed me her home!  I wouldn't trade any experience for the world.  Especially this next one..................... :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-291254938501051864?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/291254938501051864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-trip-to-washington-d.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/291254938501051864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/291254938501051864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-trip-to-washington-d.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-1109603217649490926</id><published>2009-11-11T23:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T23:29:38.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5Vmv_8SI/AAAAAAAAABk/pIPG4UQ8PwE/s1600-h/11449_597000081824_193308360_34253235_5233439_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5Vmv_8SI/AAAAAAAAABk/pIPG4UQ8PwE/s320/11449_597000081824_193308360_34253235_5233439_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403115958791303458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5B31juKI/AAAAAAAAABc/aZN5on0m0k0/s1600-h/13065_338547355220_729820220_9729782_4764246_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5B31juKI/AAAAAAAAABc/aZN5on0m0k0/s320/13065_338547355220_729820220_9729782_4764246_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403115619780638882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5BbahmAI/AAAAAAAAABU/NTKLP_w8StM/s1600-h/13065_338531995220_729820220_9729597_4104098_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5BbahmAI/AAAAAAAAABU/NTKLP_w8StM/s320/13065_338531995220_729820220_9729597_4104098_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403115612151060482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude, I have the coolest roommates.  Let me explain what we did.  We found an abandoned house from the 1930's and then we snuck into it and had a splatter paint fest. Then we had my roommates friend who is a photographer take our pictures.  Lest me just tell you...this house had no windows or doors and it was 35 degrees outside and we were all covered in wet paint! I have never been that cold in my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-1109603217649490926?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/1109603217649490926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/11/dude-i-have-coolest-roommates.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/1109603217649490926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/1109603217649490926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/11/dude-i-have-coolest-roommates.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Svu5Vmv_8SI/AAAAAAAAABk/pIPG4UQ8PwE/s72-c/11449_597000081824_193308360_34253235_5233439_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-4680642266812641355</id><published>2009-09-24T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T23:34:29.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE CALL FINALLY CAME!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Srxkbe6tyWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/x_yWfw6m8cA/s1600-h/malaga-spain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Srxkbe6tyWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/x_yWfw6m8cA/s400/malaga-spain.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385289677746850146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well! My call is finally here!  I can't believe it!  I knew it would come this wednesday and I oculd not concentrate all day long!  Class was useless....I would just stare off into space with a dreamy look on my eyes wondering where I might possibly be called.  To be quite honest I never really believed the day would come!&lt;div&gt;I was studying my "Genetics for Dummies" book when my phone buzzed on the table in the music building. the entire symphony was out in the hallway on their lunchbreak.  I answered the phone, my hands shaking.  I heard mom and dads voices as they opened my call in anticipation...then they began to read....Dad read silently to himself then started laughing.  this did not sit well with me as he had been joking all week that I would be called to Boise Idaho. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;finally they told me where I would be serving...My mouth dropped and my heart almost stopped.  MALAGA SPAIN!!!!! I could not believe it!  Spain had to have been the only country that never crossed my mind!  But It felt right!...and It was my call!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-4680642266812641355?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/4680642266812641355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/09/call-finally-came.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/4680642266812641355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/4680642266812641355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/09/call-finally-came.html' title='THE CALL FINALLY CAME!!!!'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/Srxkbe6tyWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/x_yWfw6m8cA/s72-c/malaga-spain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-1660872537144924389</id><published>2009-09-17T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T09:49:17.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty Around Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SrJogkCpEtI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bTxmwPCwzzA/s1600-h/IMG_1717.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SrJogkCpEtI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bTxmwPCwzzA/s320/IMG_1717.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382479413301023442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My psychology professor assigned me to meditate for 20 minutes every day for two weeks... with the "om" and everything.  I tried it today but fell asleep,  I kept making fun of myself in my head for actually humming to it.  However, even though I find this exercise to be a little odd I can see the usefulness of it.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes I just wish life would quit being so busy and sit down beside me so that I could enjoy its company for a while.   But that is not the way life works...or my life anyway.  But I do remember a time when life was laid back and one could just gaze in silence as a summer day walked serenely down the road. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sundays at grandmas house always seemed this way to me.  The men would go into the back room and watch the sports game  or 60-minutes.  the women would sit in the front room and talk about whatever thoughts had been playing about their minds for the past week.  On the cupboard there were always two glass dishes, one with "hot tamales" and the other containing "mike-and-ikes."  And in the kitchen every summer you could find a tuperware of freshly cut watermelon (courtesy of grandma and grandpas amazing watermelon picking abilities).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The children would play together every sunday, we always had a number of things that we would enrapture our minds with whether it was sitting in one of the cars and listening to "hip music" which I never knew the words to.  or playing night games like "ghost in the graveyard" or "Annie-i-over."  However, one of my favorite things to do was to take a short hike up to the waterfall that was located in ogden canyon right behind my grandmas house.  It was beautiful, and the pipe with the water running through it was cool and you could lay on it when the day was sticky and hot.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I recently had a chance to go back and visit my childhood hike and remember those days when life really was slow and easy.  It reminded me of the beauty that is in this world,  sometimes we pass it by to easily and we don't notice the colors and vibrancy surrounding us.  I'm grateful to have these memories...I'm grateful to my aunts who I grew up listening to and most of all I'm thankful for the beauty that is constantly surrounding me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Maybe it's not that life is to busy to sit with me for a while, but maybe it's that I just have not invited it over in a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-1660872537144924389?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/1660872537144924389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/09/beauty-around-us.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/1660872537144924389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/1660872537144924389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/09/beauty-around-us.html' title='Beauty Around Us'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SrJogkCpEtI/AAAAAAAAAA0/bTxmwPCwzzA/s72-c/IMG_1717.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-3055836171993611614</id><published>2009-09-03T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T22:38:41.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All Grown Up Now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SqCnvouNwyI/AAAAAAAAAAc/aKkuWw0SNYM/s1600-h/IMG_1308.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SqCnvouNwyI/AAAAAAAAAAc/aKkuWw0SNYM/s200/IMG_1308.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377482391907320610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you all know I am the youngest of seven...(see title picture)  and being the youngest I have always felt that I was expected to act a little more mature than my age...or maybe that is just how I was being raised with siblings that are a bit older than myself.  I think maybe I tried to grow up to fast.  I think I might still be growing up to fast.  sometimes it feels like I should still be twelve and going through that awkward pubescent phase...I never really ever got that many zits.  what happened?  Sometimes I find myself saying..."after this next phase of my life I will be happier"  I should be extremely Happy right now!   Why do I always think that the next phase will bring happiness?  It must be my attitude!  My whole life I have been trying to catch up to my brothers and sisters.  I wanted to go to college when i was 13 so that I could experience the joys of living on my own.  I wanted to serve a mission as soon as I graduated high school and was very upset that I had to wait. (patience is not a virtue I have)  When I went away to good ol' BYUI  I was brainwashed to think that if I am 20 and unmarried that I am a spinster!  THIS DOES NOT SIT WELL WITH ME!!!!&lt;div&gt;I figured out today that I am probably never going to catch up to my brothers and sisters...they are all at different parts of their lives.  I love them all so much and thats why I have striven to be like them.  but it's time for me to live my own life.  I am 20 yrs old, getting ready to serve a mission. and I just went through the temple for the first time.  I am happy where I am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For once I'm gonna act my age! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-3055836171993611614?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/3055836171993611614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-grown-up-now.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/3055836171993611614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/3055836171993611614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-grown-up-now.html' title='All Grown Up Now?'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SqCnvouNwyI/AAAAAAAAAAc/aKkuWw0SNYM/s72-c/IMG_1308.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-7765920589743202396</id><published>2009-08-29T09:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T09:26:55.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SplWnMTf-gI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Cx4zyqQZIMM/s1600-h/IMG_1619.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 166px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SplWnMTf-gI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Cx4zyqQZIMM/s200/IMG_1619.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375422861561297410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting ready to serve a mission!  My papers are almost filled out and I'm beginning to prepare.  I was trying to choose the proper picture to put on my mission papers.  they were all "selfies" as Anne used to call them.  However,  it was still me in every single picture, so they all looked (of course) very similar.  Dad told me the process of how they issue the calls and looking at the picture was a very big part of it, so I had to have the perfect one.  I was going through each one wondering if it looked like I should be sent to a specific place...(I was hoping for Europe)  But most of them looked like I would be sent to mexico or texas (to me anyway).  Well this is the one I chose...what do you think?  Do I look European?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-7765920589743202396?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/7765920589743202396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-getting-ready-to-serve-mission-my.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/7765920589743202396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/7765920589743202396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-getting-ready-to-serve-mission-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BiR2-VSIcpw/SplWnMTf-gI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Cx4zyqQZIMM/s72-c/IMG_1619.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-3690557111542008293</id><published>2009-08-28T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T22:27:39.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A legion of Five</title><content type='html'>This summer has been so incredibly hard but beautiful at the same time.  Life can be so horrible sometimes, to the point where you think that the world will implode upon itself...and for a while it seems that way.  But someway or another we pull out of ourselves and we become something different, something a little more refined and beautiful.  it is love that shapes us this new way. here is my favorite passage By C.S. lewis.&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:6;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;To Love is to Be Vulnerable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18.0pt"&gt; To love at all is to be vulnerable.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the perturbations of love is Hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18.0pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:3.0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18.0pt"&gt;(C.S. Lewis, &lt;u&gt;The Four Loves&lt;/u&gt;, 169)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:18.0pt"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-3690557111542008293?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/3690557111542008293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/08/legion-of-five.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/3690557111542008293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/3690557111542008293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/08/legion-of-five.html' title='A legion of Five'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1797984918418399724.post-7924163805318608592</id><published>2009-04-18T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T21:40:30.392-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Change'/><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>I've named my new blog "Life is Change"  because it is matter o'fact!   there is nothing we can do to stop change. sometimes it comes abruptly.  Other times we can feel it coming and we hang on by our finger tips hoping that all will stay happy and good! but change is inevitable and there is always a purpose for it whether we accept it now or down the road.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1797984918418399724-7924163805318608592?l=elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/feeds/7924163805318608592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/04/why.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/7924163805318608592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1797984918418399724/posts/default/7924163805318608592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elisabethpetersen-lis.blogspot.com/2009/04/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Lis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07650220423756408869</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
