<?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-6841520415331586189</id><updated>2011-07-08T05:34:24.585-07:00</updated><category term='weather'/><category term='hobbies'/><category term='career'/><category term='travel'/><category term='website'/><category term='Dreams'/><category term='photography'/><category term='decisions'/><category term='what if'/><category term='random'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>The Wonderful World of....</title><subtitle type='html'>My life, my experience, thoughts and opinions...but will anyone read them??</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-1694744404011553526</id><published>2009-08-25T04:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T05:29:01.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppy Havok</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I woke up this morning and thought ‘Today is the day.’&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today felt like it was going to be the day that I finally turned a corner with the new addition to my family – 15 week old Buddy, an ever-expanding mass of cuddly fur on four legs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I woke up to a gorgeously affectionate and warm cuddles, interspersed with tender little licks on my chin and the frustration of yesterday’s leash-training all but disappeared.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;An hour later, Buddy safely back in his bed in the kitchen, I hopped into my car and off I cruised, starting to plan the rest of my day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ideally, it was going to go something like doctor’s appointment, swim, an errand or two, home, playtime, coffee time, paint wardrobe, playtime, lunchtime, walktime, wash car, coffeetime, training, cook dinner.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;The first four items on the list happened as planned.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Humming to myself as I turned the key in the front door, I was thoroughly happy with my day so far - and to cap it off, the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky (a rarity, trust me!)&lt;span style=""&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;When the door opened, something wasn’t quite as it should be though.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why would there be a little puddle by the front door?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Puppy’s in his bed, it can’t be…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And then the smell hit me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As my eyes traveled upwards they met a mass of semi-solid semi-not-at-all-solid brown, smelly ‘matter’.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was only as I went to roll my eyes that I realized the full extent of the carnage.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He had obviously tried to re-inact some of the Andrex ads he’s seen on the tv, you know, cute puppy playing with toilet roll?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Let’s get one thing clear – this dog is no Andrex puppy… so the end result was NOTHING similar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;table style="width: 409px; height: 175px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;         &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Andrex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 89px; height: 121px;" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:Ec_wCwTGI2LHYM:http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00354/andrex_pup_354999a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/td&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;VS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;              &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Buddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 120px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/StcP6wnZwnI/AAAAAAAAAyA/J9Vr6-D37BQ/s320/Picture1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392796580956455538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Reams upon reams of toilet roll littered the carpet, chewed to pieces.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;My gut reaction was to follow the stream of toilet roll back into the bathroom, ignoring the clothes he had dragged out of various rooms.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Logic kicked in when I realized that he obviously pulled it out of the bathroom while scampering on to his next target room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Which was where exactly??&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I looked around the hall – all the doors were open.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A little voice in my head said ‘Well, at least the gate on the stairs is….closed?’&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or not.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ARGH!!!!!!!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;‘The little sh!te could be anywhere!!’&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I paused to gather my thoughts.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Silence is ominous in that kind of situation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;‘Buddy….oh Buddy….Buddy Buddy, there’s a good boy, Buddy…’&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Nothing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not a peep.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They say that the only way to get a puppy to come to you sometimes is a constant stream of babble, and never let the anger show in your voice.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So, as I cooed and called, my knuckles whitened around the handles of my swim-bag.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I tried again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This time, there was a bump.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A bump from where though?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Upstairs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It seemed my worst nightmare was going to start unfolding right before my very eyes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had visions of the legs on the piano being chewed, my guitar in tatters, pool cues splayed all over the room, every one of them with teeth-marks…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;So, with dread rising from deep within my stomach, I started on my ascent of the stairs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There he was, sitting in the middle of the room, ears pricked up, someone’s sock hanging out the right hand side of his mouth, lip curled up on the left hand side, exposing his little canines – the ultimate picture of mischief.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And he looked at me as if to say ‘What????&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All I wanted was a sock!’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;He’s in his bed now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Firmly secure and the puppy gate is well and truly shut on the kitchen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The house is clean and my nerves have recovered.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think in about an hour I’ll love him as much as I did this morning again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also think that in about 3 hours he’ll have done something else so ridiculous we’ll be back to square one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s the cycle though, right?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;He’s lucky he’s as cute as he is…  Scrap the plan.  I need a coffee, right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-1694744404011553526?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/1694744404011553526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=1694744404011553526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/1694744404011553526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/1694744404011553526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2009/08/puppy-havok.html' title='Puppy Havok'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/StcP6wnZwnI/AAAAAAAAAyA/J9Vr6-D37BQ/s72-c/Picture1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-4788517628461767580</id><published>2009-05-12T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T18:59:27.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>iGoogle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 118px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 84px" alt="" src="http://www.insideria.com/upload/2008/10/google.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, today I logged on to my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/ig?hl=en&amp;amp;source=iglk"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;iGoogle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; page, fraught with concern over impending decisions that STILL need to be made. On top of everything else, it's Wednesday. I hate Wednesdays. It's a long-running issue of mine that began with double English on a Wednesday evening oh so many years ago in school and has continued to haunt me to this day. If we could run from Tuesday into Thursday, that'd be amazing. Perhaps a petition to someone somewhere would do the trick?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, it's Wednesday, and it's too far from the weekend to plan it, so my mind invariably wanders to other things that are currently causing concern. Until I open my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/ig?hl=en&amp;amp;source=iglk"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;iGoogle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; and my horoscope reads:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;"You may be honoured with recognition at this time. You have worked steadily and surely throughout and if there`s anyone who deserves this, it is you. Bask in the glory of your achievements instead of worrying about other things. Cheers!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I had a work performance review on Monday in which I was told I was doing a fantastic job and that the offer of sponsorship and an extended contract was on the table. And just because it's Wednesday, I forget the triumphs of Monday and completely stress myself out on the lovely, sunny walk to work. A good talking to myself was in order. "Get a grip! Look at what you have! Savour it! It's right on front of you - right here, right now." . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As my mum would say: 'What's meant to be will be'. So I'm just gonna enjoy the ride. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Google&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; is my saviour. For today anyway!&lt;/span&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/6841520415331586189-4788517628461767580?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/4788517628461767580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=4788517628461767580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/4788517628461767580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/4788517628461767580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2009/05/igoogle.html' title='iGoogle'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-2887913580013048929</id><published>2009-04-21T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:58:31.502-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hobbies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='website'/><title type='text'>Commitment</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:8isuYD2YBC_k_M:http://www.adcet.edu.au/Admin/UploadedFiles/Images/Photos/www%2520confusion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:8isuYD2YBC_k_M:http://www.adcet.edu.au/Admin/UploadedFiles/Images/Photos/www%2520confusion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm a step closer to commitment. It's been a long time coming, and I've toyed with the idea for a while but yesterday I decided to take that next step. It's a relatively small and inexpensive step, but it's a start!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, registering my domain name is one thing, but actually creating a website that might interest people enough to get a viable amount of hits? In my head that's huge! Does it count if it's always just me? It's not that I'm planning to make money out of it (just yet), it's just for fun - somewhere to move my blog to and maybe stick up an odd picture or too out of my favourites. Must get around to sorting out what I said I'd do in my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/06/photography.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;first ever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; post in order to have anything impressive to put up there. Chances are that'll be well done before I ever make an attempt at starting a website!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a little bit excited though! Even though I'll inevitably procrastinate the arse out of it (I do this with most things...), I have a feeling it might be the start of something fun and challenging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have my very own URL, the next decision is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;What to do with it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-2887913580013048929?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/2887913580013048929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=2887913580013048929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2887913580013048929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2887913580013048929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2009/04/commitment.html' title='Commitment'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-3425816337263676804</id><published>2009-03-09T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T03:01:46.194-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Pasta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:w63dvUxMQSYSeM:http://www.food-info.net/images/pasta/pasta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 115px;" src="http://tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:w63dvUxMQSYSeM:http://www.food-info.net/images/pasta/pasta.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Tonight was $10 pasta night in Arivederci, Newcastle NSW.  I'm so full now I can barely move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have one word and one word only to say; mint!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Time to digest...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-3425816337263676804?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/3425816337263676804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=3425816337263676804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/3425816337263676804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/3425816337263676804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2009/03/pasta.html' title='Pasta'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-3710157884190090372</id><published>2009-02-23T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T21:01:57.672-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Clarity</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 171px" alt="" src="http://www.ecovelo.info/images/blind-corner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’ve finally rounded the blind corner that felt never-ending and all that I can see on front of me are blue skies, and lazy sunny evenings…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Australia has suddenly taken on the kind of life I had hoped it would through a full-time job and the enormous financial freedom that comes with it. I can plan trips, over indulge, and best of all, I can wake up in the morning and for the first time ever know that I really and truly love my job. Most jobs I’ve undertaken to date have been satisfactory, but I justified most of them to myself by saying ‘This will look really good on my C.V.’. And yeah, this one will too but this time, instead of saying to myself ‘Stick it out for 6 months’, I wake up and think ‘Today is Tuesday. I get to design something new.’ And I don’t think past dinner time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I get to go home after a year of being in Australia then that’s great. If I get to stay here longer through my job? Also great. Right now, my main concern is this moment, wondering how many little lines of randomness I’m going to write before I realise no-one will probably read this…but I’m going to continue anyway, cause I’m on a roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, basically what’s been happening over the last few weeks is that I started a ‘proper’ job, and experimented with the concept of doing this along with a bar job that I’ve been in since January. I liked the bar job but I suddenly had an epiphany whereby I realised that I didn’t travel half way around the world to work Monday to Friday in an amazing web design job, and then get really annoyed at weekends when I had to go and work again. As you can probably tell from the use of past tense, the bar job is no more. As of today. I made a promise to myself about 5 years ago that I’d never ever work a weekend again. Out of sheer necessity, I broke that promise when I first arrived here and now I’m going to make it up to myself! In a funny twist of fate, it now seems that my social calendar is quite full for the next few weekends, causing me to think that perhaps I could do with an extra source of income temporarily. If I had the bar job, I wouldn’t have free weekends and so wouldn’t need the money. Funny how things work out…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I’ve rounded the corner and it’s a long straight road from here for the next couple of months. I have a feeling there might be some interesting stops along the way though, and I’m really excited about them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-3710157884190090372?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/3710157884190090372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=3710157884190090372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/3710157884190090372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/3710157884190090372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-finally-rounded-my-blind-corner-and.html' title='Clarity'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-607578852148107148</id><published>2009-01-13T15:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T16:06:46.139-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><title type='text'>Expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;February 2008, and I started to have my first demented notions that perhaps a move to Australia was on the cards.  Not forever, just to see if the magnificent country that everyone raves about so much is all it's cracked up to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And so I started saving.  Every spare penny I had went into a savings account.  Some got pulled out again for car maintainence, but most of it stayed in there.  I booked the ticket in July to leave in October.  Got promoted in August.  Decided in September that I'd stay and give the job a chance.  Australia turned into a holiday in January.  End of October, decided that wasn't the way to go, so left family, home and job and arrived in Australia on December 9th 2008.  That's 10 months.  10 months of aiming for this one day, of saving for this one day when I'd get on a long haul flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The only way I could handle it is by saying 'Just get yourself there.  Once you're there, concentrate on the rest'.  It was just such huge thing to think about on a complete scale that I was overwhelmed by it all, and making it just about getting on the plane was my way of not freaking out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, it's January 2009 now.  I'm here.  I've been here for about 6 weeks now, chilling out, taking it all in.  The country is super, the people are lovely and the weather is out of this world!  All the time though, people ask me 'So, what's next then?'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well?  What is next?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No idea.  I'm job hunting at the moment....Can I come back to you on everything else???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-607578852148107148?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/607578852148107148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=607578852148107148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/607578852148107148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/607578852148107148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2009/01/expectations.html' title='Expectations'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-1685137711605142227</id><published>2008-11-26T04:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T05:47:25.643-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>How hard can it be??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.manlyaccommodation.com/images/beach1-sunrise.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 180px;" src="http://www.manlyaccommodation.com/images/beach1-sunrise.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;So, every year thousands and thousands of people decide to say 'G'day mate' and take off down under.  Armed with a sense of adventure under one arm, and leaving the other arm free for a didgeridoo, they leave homes, families and friends with gusto and passion.  Now it's my turn.  But my experience seems to be somewhat different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong - when I think of endless days of sunshine, sunset strolls along the beach and visiting sub-tropical rain forests, I'm consumed by the most overwhelming excitement I've ever felt!  But I still have about two weeks until I get to see dolphins surfing the same waves as me, and debate whether I should visit Shoal Bay or Stockton over the weekend.  And those two weeks are going to be tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're only tough for one reason though - cause I realise and truly appreciate all that I'm going to leave behind.  I can't seem to get it into my head that it's not forever, and that things are going to be exactly the same in a years time as when I left them.  I'm having a complete mental block. I'm completely and utterly paralysed by fear at the fact that things may not be the same when I get back - that life will change irreversibly forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm going to have to take that fear and use it positively.  My concentration over the next few days is going to be on to appreciating all the wonderful family and friends I have, and to enjoy my time fully with them.  Every now and then, I'll get excited about going, but pull it back before I over-think it and end up nervous again.  I'm going to grab the bull by the horns, remember how amazing it felt when I booked it, and imagine how amazing it will feel to stand on a deserted Australian beach at sunrise thinking "I did it!" and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.  Because how many people get this opportunity?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-1685137711605142227?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/1685137711605142227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=1685137711605142227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/1685137711605142227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/1685137711605142227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-hard-can-it-be.html' title='How hard can it be??'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-2174899691632569523</id><published>2008-11-05T01:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T04:15:11.096-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>It's Day 3 of waking up after a weird night's sleep and now I'm starting to feel the brunt of it.  I could say I don't know why I'm having weird dreams, but that would be a lie.  I'm putting it down to the fact that I've made a huge decision recently.  This decision has opened up my world, but obviously with that comes the unknown.  Being a minor (and it is really only minor) control freak, this is causing me a little emotional upset.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, my dream was to do with the sea, and water.  Big, crashing waves that overpowered me, and then floating around in a calm sea, meeting friends...who also happened to just be 'hanging out'.  It's one of the ones that seems to be lingering with me.  It was still vivid this morning, unlike some of the other ones that come back to me in flashes during the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result, I've been wandering around in a semi-spaced out kind of way - sometimes tuned in, more often than not, lost in my own thoughts.  And lost is the word.  Most of the time, I don't know what's going through my mind when I snap out of my little daydreams.  Normally, I think maybe I must have been transported back into my 'night dream'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want is one good night's sleep... Just one  :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-2174899691632569523?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/2174899691632569523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=2174899691632569523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2174899691632569523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2174899691632569523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/11/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-5614181393273962253</id><published>2008-10-23T03:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T03:51:06.756-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Indifferent</title><content type='html'>I logged on with the intention of writing something worthwhile.  I'm feeling a bit indifferent towards everything today though, and have forgotten the age old fact of writing that is - you can't force it.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I blame the weather.  It's 2 days before the &lt;a href="http://www.corkjazzfestival.com/"&gt;Guinness Jazz Festival&lt;/a&gt; - one of the best weekends of the year and what is it doing?  Bucketing.  Rain is coming down from the heavens in one continuous sheet.  Strong winds are forecast for everywhere.  It might clear before the weekend - maybe just one of our lovely little 24 hour storms.  If only the weather after it would be nice...  As usual, it'll probably be mediocre, with clouds that threaten rain but never really do anything about it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last year, the city was absolutely hopping - the atmosphere was amazing.  Come on party mood, where are you???????&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I just need some coffee?  A bit of heat from the AC wouldn't go astray either come to think of it!  I fancy my chances with the coffee more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.corkjazzfestival.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.myguideireland.com/images/stories/ireland-festivals/guinness-jazz-fest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:left;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 380px; height: 95px;" src="http://www.myguideireland.com/images/stories/ireland-festivals/guinness-jazz-fest.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&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/6841520415331586189-5614181393273962253?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/5614181393273962253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=5614181393273962253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/5614181393273962253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/5614181393273962253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/10/indifferent.html' title='Indifferent'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-2010113407067810230</id><published>2008-09-09T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T10:39:22.129-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Blogging</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love writing to my blog! A long time ago, I used to keep diaries, for the purpose of keeping a record of things that happened, how I felt, people I knew etc. Mostly because I loved to write, but in hindsight, it provided some much-needed therapy! I still love to write. I just find myself getting impatient that I can't write nearly as fast as I can think...typing comes that bit closer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I miss my diaries. I read back through old ones and all my thoughts and memories come flooding back. Times from 10 years ago are clearer and fresher than those from 10 days ago and it's all down to my diaries. What made me stop? I discovered a trend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I discovered that I never really wrote when I was really upset. I wrote when I was angry about something, or really really happy, but never when I was feeling down for no reason, or really irritated with life. I never really had the will to! Over the last couple of years, I came to the conclusion that whenever I started to write about all the good things, that it was around that time that they started to go downhill. Possibly co-incidence, but after a while I was afraid to take the chance! So, since 2005, I haven't written anything remotely decent. Until my blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I find this different though. I write about certain things - random topics, never really about the day-to-day goings on. I like that. I like to think that that's what might make my blog accessible to so many different people. No one knows who I am, or what I do and therefore no one can just my blog, or indeed me, based on this. It's just words. I write whatever's in my head on any given day. It's not necessarily chronological, relevant, or even related to what's going on in my life when I write.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm sure it won't be this way forever, but right now I'm enjoying the way it feels. It's almost as tangible as one of my diaries to me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Does this mean I need help??  Hee hee....Or is this my therapy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6841520415331586189-2010113407067810230?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/2010113407067810230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=2010113407067810230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2010113407067810230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2010113407067810230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/09/blogging.html' title='Blogging'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-766621339035563686</id><published>2008-08-14T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T06:37:59.766-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:DjqG3ofjGh0UGM:http://www.pdgourlais.com/images/puddles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:DjqG3ofjGh0UGM:http://www.pdgourlais.com/images/puddles.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I live in Ireland.  It's August.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It feels like it's been raining forever.  Summer happened for about 2 hours on a Tuesday morning in May.  I remember what it was like to be warm, once upon a time, and I wonder if I'll ever be warm again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The answer is: Yes.  In about 10 weeks time.  But not in Ireland.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt; &lt;/span&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/6841520415331586189-766621339035563686?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/766621339035563686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=766621339035563686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/766621339035563686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/766621339035563686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/08/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-2583376749729955369</id><published>2008-07-30T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T00:54:14.434-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hobbies'/><title type='text'>Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:TKN8DyYK50vw7M:http://d21c.com/DragonsDreams/gar/Sleep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:TKN8DyYK50vw7M:http://d21c.com/DragonsDreams/gar/Sleep.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Try as I might, I just can't deny it - sleeping is one of my favourite hobbies.  Perhaps not sleeping, just being nice and cosy and warm with my duvet wrapped around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I love the feeling of waking up, realising that I have another hour to sleep, turning over to a cold side of the pillow, acknowledging the heaviness of my limbs that means I'm truly relaxed, and then drifting off again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;And on mornings like these, I miss knowing that I had a good nights sleep.  I woke up unsettled and not knowing why.  I think I must have dreamt, but what about I can't be sure.  At some point during the day, I'm bound to have a flashback that leaves me with the same uneasy feeling, and maybe I'll equate it to whatever I dreamt about last night, but then maybe not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Unless something unusual happens in the course of the day, I have a feeling that I'm going to be indifferent to most of it.  And all because I didn't a good night's sleep!!  Ah well - there's always tonight  :) &lt;/span&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/6841520415331586189-2583376749729955369?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/2583376749729955369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=2583376749729955369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2583376749729955369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2583376749729955369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/07/sleep.html' title='Sleep'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-7660549397880820668</id><published>2008-07-29T02:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T02:36:03.343-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Taking the Plunge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;So, I made a decision.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;A big decision based on lots of little decisions, but nevertheless, a decision.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I decided that I couldn't base my decision on 'What Ifs'.  I decided that I couldn't base it on anyone else's opinions or experiences.  I decided that the opportunity presented to me was once in a lifetime.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I took a deep breath, pulled out my Visa and said 'I'll book it!'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;And it felt amazing.&lt;/span&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/6841520415331586189-7660549397880820668?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/7660549397880820668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=7660549397880820668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/7660549397880820668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/7660549397880820668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/07/taking-plunge.html' title='Taking the Plunge'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-2233526849602436743</id><published>2008-07-23T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T06:36:34.989-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='career'/><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:_Cc5VeME9PnTjM:http://blog.lidc.sfu.ca/careerservices/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/advice_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:_Cc5VeME9PnTjM:http://blog.lidc.sfu.ca/careerservices/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/advice_2.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;" class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;I've just read Alex William's last post and the first reply he received to it.  I find myself informed and inspired.  Suddenly, it's dawned on me that I may never realise or attain this seemingly evasive thing people call a 'career'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I found this definition of career online: 'an occupation or profession, esp. one requiring special training, followed as one's lifework' (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/career"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Dictionary.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;).  To be honest - it's a pretty scary definition to me.  Lifework.  Forever?  To say 'lifework' makes it sound as though your career is for life and is the only work you undertake during it.  Does this then extend to mean that it essentially defines who you are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;More often than not, when approached by old school friends, where things that were once held in common have long since died, I find myself confronted with the question 'So, what are you doing these days?'.  In the society I've grown up in, I've learned this to be with reference to your chosen career, or lack thereof.  And I feel under pressure.  Under pressure that whatever I say will be taken and disected, analysed, compared their own circumstances and then ultimately tossed to one side because it's less than what it should be.  The truth is - I don't really have a defined career path.  Not one that's going to be my 'lifework', and certainly not one that I wish to be defined by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In contrast, the same website provided me with this definition of 'career': 'a person's progress or general course of action through life or through a phase of life, as in some profession or undertaking'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div face="verdana"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div face="verdana"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Now, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;definition sits much better with me for a number of reasons.  For a start, it's about a 'person's progression', rather than a professional progression - the emphasis is on the person and not really what they do for a living.  It refers to a career as either being 'through life or through a phase of life'.  This is what cliched it for me.  I love the freedom that comes with thinking a career may only be a phase in my life - and if it turns out to be hideous and ghastly, then I have the option to send it in a new direction.  And mostly, I like that it's 'some profession &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt; undertaking'.  Your career may not be defined by your profession.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div face="verdana"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, it's a combination of being unsure of, and ultimately the thought of being defined by whatever 'career' I choose that's posing the issue for me.  It stems from being brought up in a society where this seems to matter.  Perhaps a change of scenery is in order?  A new perspective on what it means to have a career is beginning to come to light for me, but how will my definition compare with everybody else's?  And do I really care?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't everyone?&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/6841520415331586189-2233526849602436743?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/2233526849602436743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=2233526849602436743' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2233526849602436743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2233526849602436743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/07/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-1465453080538571130</id><published>2008-06-20T03:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T06:24:18.307-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hobbies'/><title type='text'>Photography</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SF-j8pajgQI/AAAAAAAAAas/TUrrQa_4dTI/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SF-j8pajgQI/AAAAAAAAAas/TUrrQa_4dTI/s320/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215067155823034626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Things I need to do:  Take a Photoshop course.  Take a photography course.  Maybe then I'll be able to take breathtaking pictures all the time instead of moderately engaging ones some of the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In the meantime, I try.&lt;/span&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/6841520415331586189-1465453080538571130?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/1465453080538571130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=1465453080538571130' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/1465453080538571130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/1465453080538571130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/06/photography.html' title='Photography'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SF-j8pajgQI/AAAAAAAAAas/TUrrQa_4dTI/s72-c/Picture+2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6841520415331586189.post-2013915492961960126</id><published>2008-06-19T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T02:55:36.010-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='what if'/><title type='text'>What If?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ndesign-studio.com/images/portfolio/illustration/abstract-life-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.ndesign-studio.com/images/portfolio/illustration/abstract-life-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I go over and over things in my head.  Over and over.  Sometimes things take on a slightly different perspective, sometimes they don't.  Sometimes I can shed some light on my issues.  More often than not, I can't.  And the reason for this being the proverbial 'What if...?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My life would be easy without 'What if....?'  I'd make a decision and stick to it.  Wouldn't I?  'What if I can't get a job that makes me feel like all my hard work has been worthwhile?'  This seems to be the question of the moment.  Followed by 'What the hell?  Come on....what kind of question is that???'  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Questions that start with 'What if..' have been my downfall.  No spur of the moment decisions.  Headaches.  Sleepless nights.  And for what?  For every negative answer to a 'What if?', there seem to be equal positives.  Should decisions be made based on answers to random 'What if?' questions?  Because if I get hit by a bus in the morning, then all the questions I've asked myself about any decisions I have to make go right out the window.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I guess if I can provide a rational answer to (and am not completely panicked by) the answers that I give to these questions, then surely it's not all bad.  And from there it's a simple matter of weighing up the pro's and the con's.  Simple?  Yeah, it can be simple.  I just have to choose to keep it simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bhutanobserver.bt/2008/literary/06/what-if….html"&gt;'What If'&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:13px;"&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/6841520415331586189-2013915492961960126?l=katsandham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/feeds/2013915492961960126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6841520415331586189&amp;postID=2013915492961960126' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2013915492961960126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6841520415331586189/posts/default/2013915492961960126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katsandham.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-if.html' title='What If?'/><author><name>KT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02182359091856897588</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_SAJTm9P7YeU/SFpqCNRiENI/AAAAAAAAAXc/Ox9JjpBjKxI/S220/flower.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
