<?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-7118843439631134762</id><updated>2011-11-05T20:43:53.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to My World...</title><subtitle type='html'>sometimes it just feels good to sit down and write.  though the content is often unknown, the feeling one gets when they express themselves through writing is unmatched</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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-7118843439631134762.post-7275563111305629260</id><published>2008-05-14T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:33.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Went to Disneyland!!</title><content type='html'>I'm just going to warn you right now: You're going to be jealous by this post unless you've been to Southern California (specifically Disneyland and Magic Mountain Six Flags) in the past seven days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200430320977957986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/SCuj0ukP1GI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4MWbwTJdHgU/s320/IMG_0281.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ryan, Me and Craig and in front of the Magic Kingdom.  Did you know they are giving away Dream Suite nights where you actually get to sleep in the castle for a night?  Amazing huh?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200430338157827218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/SCuj1ukP1JI/AAAAAAAAAGE/vMKC7W5yleQ/s320/IMG_0289.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The Incredibles, Me, Ryan and Craig&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;You heard it here folks. A friend of mine celebrated a birthday last week and instead of planning the lame old regular party, we decided it would be a grand idea to visit the happiest place on Earth. Of course, when we originally talked about it, we didn't actually think we would go to Disneyland. I mean, what 26,27 and 29 year old people who are all teachers in the last little bit of the year actually take time off of work to go to Disneyland? Well...me and my crew do. And oh my is it soooo much better than I remember it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to being the first people in line to meet Mickey Mouse, having front row seats for Fantasmic and the Million Dreams Fireworks Spectacular, riding EVERY important ride in both California Adventure and Disneyland at least twice, watching the Disneyland Electrical Parade while enjoying a spectacular bottle of wine at the pseudo winery in California Adventure and getting more wet on Splash Mountain that once thought possible, we were also lucky enough to spend a day at Six Flags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine if you will a nice Monday morning...we exit our convertible that we rented for the weekend onto the grounds of Magic Mountain. We walk up to wait in line for the park to open. As we're waiting, there is a rather large group of people just hanging out and workers are doing this little dance/entertain the crowd thing. Being three lovely high school teachers, we of course have no problem making fools of ourselves, so we begin to dance along with them. Imagine our surprise when they announce that they have chosen us to be the openers of the park for that day?!? At first we're thinking "no big deal...just going to walk in front of some people." No. That isn't it at all. In order to be the openers of the park, one must ride on a float with a variety of characters, dance around to "Celebrate Good Times" and then at just the right moment, push down a giant TNT thing that releases confetti into the air thus announcing that Magic Mountain is open for the day. Yep. I did that. I'm kind of a big deal. People know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. Went to Disneyland for a few days. Had an absolute blast. Love my friends. Enjoy the pictures. (Don't I look cute in the picture with Minnie? I love her!) &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200430333862859906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/SCuj1ekP1II/AAAAAAAAAF8/BksZnJ-BED4/s320/IMG_0285.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200430329567892594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/SCuj1OkP1HI/AAAAAAAAAF0/pMrR_QpWU2w/s320/IMG_0282.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ryan, the shortest Mickey Mouse ever, Me, Craig&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-7275563111305629260?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/7275563111305629260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=7275563111305629260' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/7275563111305629260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/7275563111305629260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-went-to-disneyland.html' title='I Went to Disneyland!!'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/SCuj0ukP1GI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4MWbwTJdHgU/s72-c/IMG_0281.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-5388209413882918309</id><published>2008-02-26T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:33.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigh...</title><content type='html'>You know when you get to a point in life when really the only thing you can do is sigh? Like (and for the record I actually stopped and erased the word "like" because I really do hate using it lest I sound like a high schooler...I mean, I spend enough time with them, I don't need to talk like them too...but it fits here) there isn't any other solution or thing that can make you feel better. Generally speaking sighing is reserved for situations that you are exasperated with or just want to give up on...so I suppose this doesn't really fit because I don't want to give up, but really what else is there to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some students that I may or may not work with at a rather large suburban high school (always want to protect some shred of anonymity right?) are making some rather POOR choices as of late and I think all that is left to do is sigh. A few weeks ago a bunch of them went on a trip to NYC, some of them smoked an illegal substance, some of them got suspended. It was the talk of the town. You would think that making an example of a few prominent students would be enough...but alas, another group of students are on another trip and the very same thing happens. Really? What are they thinking? It's almost like a slap in the face you know. We spend all of this time talking about making good decisions and how choices affect our futures...yep. Been talking to myself apparently. This is the part of the job that I abosolutely hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But here is the part of the job that I absolutely LOVE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171504544023642914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/R8Tf-6TZAyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/TnRvw0OzEuA/s320/IMG_0277.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We beat the rival by one point. Sure...that brings our record to something like 2-7 but whatever. For those brief moments life was grand. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And here are a bunch of CHAPERONES...yep adults at the high school dance getting our picture taken.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171504827491484466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/R8TgPaTZAzI/AAAAAAAAAFk/FynE_4CJr_8/s320/Mario+Party.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Why wouldn't you want to be a high school teacher?  Perhaps I'm just a little bit premature in passing out my sighs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-5388209413882918309?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/5388209413882918309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=5388209413882918309' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/5388209413882918309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/5388209413882918309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2008/02/sigh.html' title='Sigh...'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/R8Tf-6TZAyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/TnRvw0OzEuA/s72-c/IMG_0277.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-2954550067107724250</id><published>2008-01-22T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T19:33:10.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving People On Purpose</title><content type='html'>Hmm...it's been awhile...though how can you really be disappointed when the last blog I posted had a picture of me in a Christmas sweater and my friend in a full length red velvet dress?  If you're complaining after that, get a life.  Take pleasure in the simple things.  Really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there are numerous things I could write about...went and visited my dad and his side of the family over the holidays, just finishing up Semester One of teaching year three, moved into a new house with a roommate again...all of those fail in comparison to something serious that has actually been on my heart lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships.  (No.  Not a relationship.  Just relationships in general.  And by the way, wouldn't you be really mad if you were reading about me having a boyfriend via a blog?  You should be.  That's a lame way to spread the news.  Sorry to those of you who have written blogs about dating new people) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, soul and mind.  The second is like it, love your neighbor as yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love God passionately.  Love His people on purpose.  Both of these statements seem to be pretty simple to understand, but for some reason they all of the sudden have this new found meaning and urgency to them.  Loving God passionately and loving His people on purpose is what I was made for and if I'm not doing that, something is wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how I was talking about how restless I've become as of late?  Well over break I received a job offer to work at a charter school in Baltimore.  It came with more money, more opportunities, pretty much more everything.  I was pretty excited about it when I came home and immediately began telling some people from work about it.  Though in the midst of my excitement, there was something that just didn't feel right about it.  I didn't understand why I WOULDN'T want to take this job...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought...and prayed....and thought some more about what it was that was holding me back from doing this until something hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My relationships.  These people that I thought I just worked with on a daily basis have become something to me that I never expected.  They're my friends and I love them...but honestly, I have a lot of friends.  My friends at work have become people I love on purpose...a card on a big game day, coffee while talking about a student, a smile and a hug when they're getting divorced.  Over the last three years our lives have become this interconnected sort of thing that all of the sudden makes perfect sense.  God knew exactly what He was doing when He brought me to this place...I just didn't trust that He did.  He knew that these people were going to become a part of me and that I was going to become a part of them and that no amount of money or no grandiose opportunities could take me away from it.  Not yet anyways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that all too often I try to take things into my own control.  I get restless.  I want to change.  Me.  Me.  Me.  Funny how God shakes things up huh?  It's like when Peter calls out to Jesus and He commands him to step out of the boat and walk on the water.  Everything is going fine for Peter...he's walking on the water, but then he looks away from Jesus and SPLASH!!  He falls.  That's like me...everything can be going just fine...walking along on the water, and the moment I take my eyes off of Him it all falls apart.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah...a bit random, but not really because I've been challenged to love people on purpose.  They're there for a reason.  He knows the reason.  He'll let me in on it when the time is right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-2954550067107724250?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/2954550067107724250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=2954550067107724250' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/2954550067107724250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/2954550067107724250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2008/01/loving-people-on-purpose.html' title='Loving People On Purpose'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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-7118843439631134762.post-1918725313038851715</id><published>2007-12-25T15:30:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:33.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/R3GSx27W0bI/AAAAAAAAAFU/NdH7rXQ7BBA/s1600-h/IMG_0257.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148057234316906930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/R3GSx27W0bI/AAAAAAAAAFU/NdH7rXQ7BBA/s320/IMG_0257.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;From my work family (festively clad in wonderful holiday attire) to yours:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just wanted to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Birthday Jesus :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-1918725313038851715?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/1918725313038851715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=1918725313038851715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/1918725313038851715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/1918725313038851715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/R3GSx27W0bI/AAAAAAAAAFU/NdH7rXQ7BBA/s72-c/IMG_0257.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-5520276181223876386</id><published>2007-11-12T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:34.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Restless...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About every six months I start to get this uncontrollable desire to pick up and move. I get these ideas about how great it would be to move to New York City and start working in an inner-city school or maybe even drop everything and check out the life in Africa somewhere. I always end up talking myself out of it, but for some reason I feel like I might actually have to do some serious thinking and praying about where God is calling me in life this time. All too often it seems that we get sort of pigeon-holed (sorry for the lame cliche. I usually try to avoid them, but this one just seems to fit) into what we think life holds...I'm a teacher. I have a great job in an outstanding district. I'm living rather comfortably. Things are by all means good...but really...is this all there is? Is this what God made me to be or is there just a little bit more that I'm not allowing myself to realize because I'm comfortable where I'm at? I dunno. Like I said...some serious prayer needs to be taking place in the next few weeks, months, etc. I've always tried to live my life with no regrets. I don't want to get to a place in time when I'm looking back and saying "Crap. Why didn't I..." Hmm...interesting blog thoughts this evening...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RzkHxRvLPiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YH5dXhCwvzI/s1600-h/Halloween+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132141793521647138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RzkHxRvLPiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YH5dXhCwvzI/s320/Halloween+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy me as Rainbow Brite to ease your mind :) Best Halloween Costume EVER!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-5520276181223876386?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/5520276181223876386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=5520276181223876386' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/5520276181223876386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/5520276181223876386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-restless.html' title='I&apos;m Restless...'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/RzkHxRvLPiI/AAAAAAAAAC8/YH5dXhCwvzI/s72-c/Halloween+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-1744274919494865881</id><published>2007-10-29T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:34.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beaver Nation Migration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryag56_hmzI/AAAAAAAAACU/9zSCUpia3_0/s1600-h/_MG_8847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126962142756576050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryag56_hmzI/AAAAAAAAACU/9zSCUpia3_0/s320/_MG_8847.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryahgq_hm1I/AAAAAAAAACk/SvI3zzvyMY0/s1600-h/_MG_8848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126962808476506962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryahgq_hm1I/AAAAAAAAACk/SvI3zzvyMY0/s320/_MG_8848.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Remember how two months ago I vowed to be a whole lot better with blogging? I claimed that once school started I would have so many stories to share I just wouldn't be able to keep myself away from the blogosphere...ha ha. Yeah. That's funny. What was I thinking? I wasn't obviously. Ah well. I have a fun story to share with you now which is all that really matters right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Beaver Nation Migration. What is that you ask? Well let's just say that it involves a fundraiser for an autistic student at my school, the first event of the First Annual Allen vs. Hottmann TA (Teacher's Assistant) &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RyahM6_hm0I/AAAAAAAAACc/vYnQdgHZe2M/s1600-h/_MG_8816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126962469174090562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RyahM6_hm0I/AAAAAAAAACc/vYnQdgHZe2M/s320/_MG_8816.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Olympics, a Beaver costume, a Rhythm Bee Costume, a 2.7 mile walk to a football game and 250 or so students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Matt issued a challenge to the student body: raise $250 for Project Aaron and I will walk from Beaverton to Southridge for the annual football game while wearing the Bucky the Beaver costume. Excellent idea. Everyone loves it. But not as much as they love the thought of me walking with him in the Rhythm Bee costume. I wasn't really all about it, so I said sure...if you raise $1000. In my mind I was thinking that this was virtually impossible. Ha. Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryahr6_hm2I/AAAAAAAAACs/s0UNGYbWxrQ/s1600-h/_MG_8822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126963001750035298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryahr6_hm2I/AAAAAAAAACs/s0UNGYbWxrQ/s320/_MG_8822.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hottmann and I each have a team of TA's and they compete against each other in a variety of events ranging from stapling to delivering messages to pretty much any sort of ridiculous TA task. Well our lovely students took it upon themselves to raise the money for The Beaver Nation Migration and between the 1o of them raised nearly $1300!! So proud of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. We suited up last Friday afternoon and walked..yes WALKED across town with a ton of kids to the football game. This is why I teach high school! It was the talk of the town. Proud to be Beaver! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-1744274919494865881?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/1744274919494865881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=1744274919494865881' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/1744274919494865881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/1744274919494865881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/10/beaver-nation-migration.html' title='The Beaver Nation Migration'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/Ryag56_hmzI/AAAAAAAAACU/9zSCUpia3_0/s72-c/_MG_8847.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-1939174540837463863</id><published>2007-08-29T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:35.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Done It Again...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't you think it's sad that whenever that phrase is mentioned everyone automatically thinks of that horrific Brittany Spears (is that how you spell her name? or is it Britney?) song "Oops I Did It Again"? I think it is. I like the phrase, but can't really bring myself to use it that often because of the conotation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well what I'm referring to is the fact that I've managed to suck at blogging again. I have these great intentions...honest. I do fun stuff and I want to tell everyone about it, but then the time comes for me to actually sit down at the computer and do it and nothing happens. A quick check of the email and then I'm off to something else. So yes. I apologize. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also apologize because apparently I have been "tagged" by about 84 people in the past few weeks and I know they're dieing to read my 8 random/interesting facts. I'm just going to say up front that I'm not tagging anyone else after I finish writing though. Sorry. I have a reuputation to uphold for not following any rules and basically ruining everything fun :) Without further adieu...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Rules:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. (If you don’t have a blog, email me)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.My 8 random facts/habits about myself:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. After reading Ang's blog, I realize that I subconciously picked up her deathly fear of moths. Now that I think about it, I was never afraid of moths until I became her friend. Now I can't stand the little things. When they are flying around light I generally throw up a little bit in my mouth which is then followed by a long "ewwwww that thing is gross" and me walking rather briskly away. This in turn is followed by a lot of laughter and ridicule from whoever I am with at the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Whenever I hear Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You" I am immediately reminded of a humorous/most embarassing EVER student teaching experience that involved a stage, a spotlight, a last song at a dance, five little high school boys parting a rather large crowd and a choreographed dance to lines that centered on "all we want for Christmas is you Ms. Allen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. One of my life goals is to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I am the advisor for the dance/drill team at the high school I work at. The team is called the Rhythm B's and they are reminiscent of a 1950s sort of pep rally cheerleading squad that wears the same wool sweaters and polyester skirts that all Rhythm B's before them wore. "The Line" (as they are affectionately referred to as) rules the school. When they walk into the gym during an assembly or walk onto the football field during halftime, the entire crowd errupts into thunderous applause and sings every word of the fight song while they perform the SAME DANCE THEY'VE DONE SINCE THE 1950s. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RtYyuo2YFUI/AAAAAAAAABs/6ghDWPx4GPc/s1600-h/mud.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104323004491896130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RtYyuo2YFUI/AAAAAAAAABs/6ghDWPx4GPc/s320/mud.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. My favorite spot in the entire world is a log under a tree on the banks of the Yukon River. It sits below a sign that reads Kokrine Hills Bible Camp and you can look out at one of the most peaceful yet one of the most dangerous rivers of all time. Many a good conversations have been had here as have many tears been shed. I've watched a lot of people come to truly know God at this place and have definitely learned a good bit about Him as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. My life changed the day I set foot onto the ground of Johannesburg, South Africa. Spending the time I did at The Love of Christ Ministries caused me to see life in an entirely different way. I wouldn't trade that experience for anything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RtYylo2YFTI/AAAAAAAAABk/QjD5qQ7Kwbk/s1600-h/lionking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104322849873073458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RtYylo2YFTI/AAAAAAAAABk/QjD5qQ7Kwbk/s320/lionking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;7. I like to work out first thing in the morning...like at 5am. Something about getting up and going to the gym makes my day a lot better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. One of my new hobbies is winetasting. I never drank wine until about a month ago and now I really enjoy spending time at fine wineries around the state. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promise I'll do better with blogging. Talk to you soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-1939174540837463863?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/1939174540837463863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=1939174540837463863' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/1939174540837463863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/1939174540837463863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/08/ive-done-it-again.html' title='I&apos;ve Done It Again...'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/RtYyuo2YFUI/AAAAAAAAABs/6ghDWPx4GPc/s72-c/mud.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-908133841126590444</id><published>2007-08-01T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T19:40:25.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah Summer...</title><content type='html'>I've officially been on "summer vacation" for about six weeks now, but since I was working until the 20th of July and then had to attend a conference all about assessment (woohoo...I know you're jealous...especially if you're not a teacher and have no idea how a group of five hundred people could actually sit around and talk about how to properly assess and grade students for four days) last week, I'm counting this week as my first real week of summer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I kind of felt guilty because most days my big accomplishment and/or scheduled event is going to the gym, but as I've settled into book number six of the summer (and no, I didn't read all of them in the past few days) I've come to realize that there's really nothing to feel guilty about.  Sure, I do have two and half months off every year, plus two weeks at Christmas, plus a week in March, plus every holiday off, but I work HARD when I'm at school and taking some time to lay by the pool and watch movies and completely veg out seems only fitting...at least for the next couple of weeks until the chaos begins again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, it's summer vacation.  Next week should be a bit more eventful...going camping.  I'm sure it will yield some funny stories and a few pictures! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the book.  Adios.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-908133841126590444?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/908133841126590444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=908133841126590444' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/908133841126590444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/908133841126590444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/08/ah-summer.html' title='Ah Summer...'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-6939883821146832119</id><published>2007-07-16T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:35.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Ella!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason when friends have kids, it's just a crazy thing to think about. I guess this is very similar to the post about my BFF from high school getting married, except for today we welcomed beautiful Ella Kate, her daughter, into the world. CRAZY!! I just don't feel old enough for Heather to be having kids. I know I'm 26 and all and most of my other friends are married with multiple children, but I guess it just blows my mind to watch her do all of this. Ah well...I'm repeating myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RpxOhHhrrrI/AAAAAAAAABM/YpmxRTooSS4/s1600-h/IMG_0176.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088028009884790450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RpxOhHhrrrI/AAAAAAAAABM/YpmxRTooSS4/s320/IMG_0176.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Something I am thankful (and this is just one thing of many) for is that she is cute. You know how sometimes people have babies and they're really not cute? Well Heather and Steve don't have to worry about that with her because she is absolutely adorable. I hope that when I have kids...way way WAY down the road (especially after seeing the little diagram that shows a dialated cervix that they conveniently leave by the sink where you wash your hands before picking up the baby. HOLY CRAP!! Talk about birth control...just look at that thing), I hope they are cute. Some babies are just really ugly sometimes and I hope that it doesn't happen to be true about my someday kids. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088028976252432082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RpxPZXhrrtI/AAAAAAAAABc/PxghxCH0puo/s320/IMG_0177.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-6939883821146832119?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/6939883821146832119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=6939883821146832119' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/6939883821146832119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/6939883821146832119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-birthday-ella.html' title='Happy Birthday Ella!'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/RpxOhHhrrrI/AAAAAAAAABM/YpmxRTooSS4/s72-c/IMG_0176.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-8728428878716930342</id><published>2007-07-10T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T20:59:12.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Big for Words</title><content type='html'>I've been a high school teacher for two years now. I have a Master's Degree in Teaching. I've worked at summer camps across the country and have dealt with some of the most ridiculous situations ever while at those camps. I have worked with blind and severely disabled students who were known to throw feces at me or try to bite me. I have worked with kids who have been in the United States for less than six weeks and know about seven words of English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I've had a lot of experiences working with kids throughout my life, I'm convinced that nothing I've done up to this point could have prepared me for the phone call I received this morning from a vice principal at my school. The first thing she said to me at 8:15 this morning was that they were activating the phone tree because they had some news they needed to share. Instanteously I knew it was something bad...they don't even use the phone tree for snow days...let alone a Tuesday morning in July. She was calling to let me know that one of our students had died last night from an accidental gunshot wound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not as shocked as I was when she told me the name. In a school of 2200, what are the chances that I actually &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; the kid? Apparently today the odds are in my favor...though I don't really think that's a good thing. Little Scott Rutherford, who I never actually had in class, but knew very well through a bunch of student council things, was accidentally shot by his older brother last night. Before they were even able to call 911, he died. He was 16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death is a crazy thing. You think that you're prepared for it...you trust that God has everything under control...you try to be strong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was just a little kid. Sure, he was one of those kids that a lot of teachers wanted nothing to do with because he was a little jerk sometimes, but all in all, he was just another 16 year old boy trying to figure out life. But now he doesn't get to do that anymore. And his friends now have the burden of figuring life out on top of dealing with the death of a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even imagine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-8728428878716930342?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/8728428878716930342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=8728428878716930342' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/8728428878716930342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/8728428878716930342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/07/too-big-for-words.html' title='Too Big for Words'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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-7118843439631134762.post-6998661135295617716</id><published>2007-07-01T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:36.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Found Dedication</title><content type='html'>So I started this blog about two months ago...and as you can see, there are a staggering two blogs. That's embarassing. What's the point of creating a blog if you're not going to use it? I feel like if you don't blog at least once a week, then really the only reason you even set one up was because you were forced into it by your other friends who are on this thing religiously. While I do have friends who check the blog rather consistently, I can honestly say that I wasn't forced...more just intrigued by the possibilities that a blog offers. I mean, where else can you write about absolutely nothing, throw some pictures up and know that people will read it and be entertained? Talk about a captive audience :) And with that, I've resolved to be better about blogging. We'll see how long my resolve holds up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from a camping (well not really camping because camping in my world involves tents and no running water and having to go to the bathroom in the woods...none of which took place this weekend...this was a Mt. Hood cabin...) trip with a few of my friends. This trip was meant to be a relaxing time...playing some games, sitting around the campfire, drinking, etc. However, it's quite funny what happens when you throw five fairly active people together for a "relaxing" weekend...we can't do it. It's impossible for us to sit and do nothing. So what did we end up doing you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hike part of the Pacific Crest Trail of course. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Rohes9QU9HI/AAAAAAAAAAU/5IJVpTLlkFc/s1600-h/IMG_0169.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RohetNQU9II/AAAAAAAAAAc/O-2mC3n5TLQ/s1600-h/IMG_0172.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RohetNQU9JI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Vor8RJ428rk/s1600-h/IMG_0171.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RohiyNQU9NI/AAAAAAAAABE/i5lmdMdR7vk/s1600-h/IMG_0169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082420794178729170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RohiyNQU9NI/AAAAAAAAABE/i5lmdMdR7vk/s320/IMG_0169.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not everyday that you get the chance to head up to Timberline Lodge and run around for a few hours. I think I hiked about nine miles yesterday. Not just hiking on trails though...because that would be too simple and no fun at all. When we hike, we hike through snow and up and down giant hills and around through fields. Go big or go home. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Rohhk9QU9LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zUZVGZO-vJQ/s1600-h/IMG_0172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082419467033834674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Rohhk9QU9LI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zUZVGZO-vJQ/s320/IMG_0172.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today is a different story. The longest hike I was able to handle was from my bed to the shower. I need to get in better shape. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Rohh39QU9MI/AAAAAAAAAA8/dAQL2Ur-q1Q/s1600-h/IMG_0171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082419793451349186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/Rohh39QU9MI/AAAAAAAAAA8/dAQL2Ur-q1Q/s320/IMG_0171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes. That's my life in a nutshell at the moment. Working a lot still...but that's a good thing. I'm sure I'll have some stories to tell about that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Until next time...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-6998661135295617716?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/6998661135295617716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=6998661135295617716' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/6998661135295617716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/6998661135295617716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/07/new-found-dedication.html' title='A New Found Dedication'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/RohiyNQU9NI/AAAAAAAAABE/i5lmdMdR7vk/s72-c/IMG_0169.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-232833836151253512</id><published>2007-05-02T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:27:36.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How can it be?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The other day I was thinking about how all of the sudden I've become an adult. I mean of course I've realized that over time things have changed...like I'm now able to feed myself without wearing a bib and I've become rather adept at driving from one place to another without getting in a terrible wreck. What I'm talking about here is the fact that I've grown up in the philosophical sense of the word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RjlD4ucmxeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vRhxCY3X_QY/s1600-h/IMG_0121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060150298147210722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5eQIS3901Lc/RjlD4ucmxeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vRhxCY3X_QY/s320/IMG_0121.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last weekend one of my dearest friends got married. This is nothing new...seeing as I've been in 12 weddings now. What was different about this one you ask? Well this particular friend has always been the one who I can count on to keep me young. We've always been the two from our group of high school friends that didn't jump on the marriage in the early 20s bandwagon. We didn't have kids. We went off and lived...a bit more (or in different ways I suppose) than the majority of our other friends. So when the day finally came for her to get married, I realized that all of the sudden we really are adults. I'm almost 26 years old for goodness sakes. How can it be? 26 is officially almost out of the "mid-twenties" ...the time that I have loved more than any other in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I have to show for being almost 26? A lot. A career...a lifestyle. Friends. Family. A strong relationship with Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's not as bad as I thought&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-232833836151253512?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/232833836151253512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=232833836151253512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/232833836151253512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/232833836151253512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-can-it-be.html' title='How can it be?'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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/_5eQIS3901Lc/RjlD4ucmxeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vRhxCY3X_QY/s72-c/IMG_0121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7118843439631134762.post-7982735093375004719</id><published>2007-04-30T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T19:56:16.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So I've been a member of the myspace world for quite some time, but have come to the realization that it has lost its appeal to me...especially after my students found my page.  I shall try this instead.  Here's to a new online world!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7118843439631134762-7982735093375004719?l=welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/feeds/7982735093375004719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7118843439631134762&amp;postID=7982735093375004719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/7982735093375004719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7118843439631134762/posts/default/7982735093375004719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://welcometomyworld-mra.blogspot.com/2007/04/first-blog.html' title='The First Blog'/><author><name>Melissa Rae Allen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12329239081612926086</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></feed>
