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doctordowney
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Name: Lindsay Birthday: 11/3/1982 Gender: Female
Interests: Writing, watching old movies (esp. Alfred Hitchcock), football...can't beat the Razorbacks, playing with Jonathan, Austin, Hope, Anna, and Alie, and of course becoming Dr. Downey! Expertise: Procrastinating and hating myself for it, fixing an el perfecto bowl of Ramen noodles, talking on the phone w/Jenn and Stace...oh yes, and being a professional student. Occupation: Student Industry: Research
Message: message meEmail: email me Website: visit my website
Member Since:
1/23/2004
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| #1 I do not like this new Xanga setup. One of the beauties of Xanga was to be able to go straight to my blog page. Anyways.... #2 I have a theory...or maybe just an opinion. Our country seems to be split over who to choose even as the Democratic or Republican candidate for President. I strongly believe that none of the current runners are Presidential material. I discovered, as I was watching the news the other night, that people just seem to raise their voices instead of saying anything credible. Say something worth listening to. Have actual ideas apart from "we're going to do the exact opposite of the current President." Be original, for crying out loud. I used to think that I would just leave the country if Hillary or someone like her became President, and then a Greek said to me, "It won't make any difference b/c America messes with the whole world and you'll never be able to escape it." Hmmm. In short, I am trying not to despair about the upcoming election, but I can't help feeling that this is going to be one of the weakest Presidential terms in our history. I do take comfort, however, in the Old Testament tales of good and bad kings. Either way, God was/is sovereign. | | |
| How does one pick themselves up and keep on going? How is it that, during the most important Quarter of grad school, my brain has stopped? My motivation is gone. Graduation still seems like a distant and foggy hope. My current actions mean nothing. How do I keep moving, planning, researching, and writing despite it all? I love to think I have myself figured out...that I know the course of my emotions and mental journeys. I love to self-analyze, self-diagnose, and self-treat. I love it, and yet I hate it. I hate it because I am usually wrong. | | |
| Done with my last Winter Quarter! Two more Quarters to go and graduation comes in June!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This weekend I am going to the Pacific Ocean for the first time! function __RP_Callback_Helper(str, strCallbackEvent, splitSize, func){var event = null;if (strCallbackEvent){event = document.createEvent('Events');event.initEvent(strCallbackEvent, true, true);}if (str && str.length > 0){var splitList = str.split('|');var strCompare = str;if (splitList.length == splitSize)strCompare = splitList[splitSize-1];var pluginList = document.plugins;for (var count = 0; count < pluginList.length; count++){var sSrc = '';if (pluginList[count] && pluginList[count].src)sSrc = pluginList[count].src;if (strCompare.length >= sSrc.length){if (strCompare.indexOf(sSrc) != -1){func(str, count, pluginList, splitList);break;}}}}if (strCallbackEvent)document.body.dispatchEvent(event);}function __RP_Coord_Callback(str){var func = function(str, index, pluginList, splitList){pluginList[index].__RP_Coord_Callback = str;pluginList[index].__RP_Coord_Callback_Left = splitList[0];pluginList[index].__RP_Coord_Callback_Top = splitList[1];pluginList[index].__RP_Coord_Callback_Right = splitList[2];pluginList[index].__RP_Coord_Callback_Bottom = splitList[3];};__RP_Callback_Helper(str, 'rp-js-coord-callback', 5, func);}function __RP_Url_Callback(str){var func = function(str, index, pluginList, splitList){pluginList[index].__RP_Url_Callback = str;pluginList[index].__RP_Url_Callback_Vid = splitList[0];pluginList[index].__RP_Url_Callback_Parent = splitList[1];};__RP_Callback_Helper(str, 'rp-js-url-callback', 3, func);}function __RP_TotalBytes_Callback(str){var func = function(str, index, pluginList, splitList){pluginList[index].__RP_TotalBytes_Callback = str;pluginList[index].__RP_TotalBytes_Callback_Bytes = splitList[0];};__RP_Callback_Helper(str, null, 2, func);}function __RP_Connection_Callback(str){var func = function(str, index, pluginList, splitList){pluginList[index].__RP_Connection_Callback = str;pluginList[index].__RP_Connection_Callback_Url = splitList[0];};__RP_Callback_Helper(str, null, 2, func);} | | |
| "There's room at the cross for you. Yes there's room at the cross for you. Though millions have come there's still room for one. Yes, there's room at the cross for you." If I close my eyes I can picture it. Sitting on the front pew of an empty wooden church. The sanctuary is abandoned except for my presence. I smell the old hymnal as I fan the pages by my face, and I feel the Autumn breeze sweep through the entryway. Rocking back and forth with the hymnal at my heart, I sing. Sing prayers of thankfulness, awe, and overwhelmed love. I sing until my tears are dry on my skin, and I stand to leave. On the steps I linger, taking a moment to breathe with the Wind. And the peace I'd long forgotten is restored. "Create in me a clean heart, oh God. And renew a right spirit within me...." | | |
| Today is my 2nd anniversary of the day I moved to Seattle! So much has happened. In the last two years I've gathered material for at least four books. Now I just have to sit down and write. Less than a year left in school. I still miss my dear friends from college. | | |
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