<?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-9221176218071329098</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:15:11.943-05:00</updated><category term='future'/><category term='Careers'/><category term='married and singles'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Missions'/><category term='waiting'/><category term='OKC Bombing'/><category term='dancing'/><category term='scared'/><category term='Reunions'/><category term='WR'/><category term='new beginnings'/><category term='moving on'/><category term='fail'/><category term='happy'/><category term='married life'/><category term='ENC'/><category term='changes'/><category term='time'/><title type='text'>Melissa's Musings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-2416515654670060415</id><published>2010-09-24T23:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T23:07:14.521-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The World Race</title><content type='html'>So it's all set, I'm going.&amp;nbsp; I've paid the deposit, started writing my letters and now the route has been posted!&amp;nbsp; It's all very very real right now!&amp;nbsp; Part of the trip is to blog so people can be connected to what's going on so I imagine even though I was so excited to get back into this I now have a new place to write so check out my official blog:&lt;br /&gt;http://melissalowell.theworldrace.org&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's also a link on the left if you so feel inclined to support me financially in this life changing adventure!&amp;nbsp; Also here's the link for the route:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.theworldrace.org/?tab=routes&amp;amp;subtab=july-2011&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-2416515654670060415?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/2416515654670060415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=2416515654670060415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/2416515654670060415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/2416515654670060415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/09/world-race.html' title='The World Race'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-4655966221284465249</id><published>2010-09-16T23:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T23:41:23.254-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new beginnings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><title type='text'>I am really going to do this...</title><content type='html'>Thursdays are rough for me. &amp;nbsp;I spend most of my day in the office which if you know me I don't like being stuck at my desk. &amp;nbsp;I get bored. &amp;nbsp;I need lots of human interaction. &amp;nbsp;Also tonight is the first of Munchies with Melissa so at 9pm I was having one of my floors over for some community building. &amp;nbsp;I needed a nap. &amp;nbsp;Desperately. &amp;nbsp;So I laid down and fell asleep for about 20 minutes and then woke up completely anxious. &amp;nbsp;I wasn't late so I didn't know what was going on. &amp;nbsp;I decided to get up, check some email and run some errands. &amp;nbsp;When I opened my email I saw one from WR. &amp;nbsp;I wasn't expecting to hear from them for another week. &amp;nbsp;And yet, here it was. &amp;nbsp;I was accepted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized a small part of me was hoping I wouldn't get accepted so it would be them making the final decision for me. &amp;nbsp;I immediately burst into tears. &amp;nbsp;This is it. &amp;nbsp;This is real. &amp;nbsp;Now or never. &amp;nbsp;Am I doing this? &amp;nbsp;And in my heart I knew, I am really going to do this. &amp;nbsp;I am going to completely and utterly walk away from my life for 11 months. &amp;nbsp;I'm going to spread the love of Christ across the world, raise an obscene amount of money to do said sharing, spend some nights sleeping in a tent and (most troubling of all), probably have to dig a hole to poop at times. &amp;nbsp;I am not this girl. &amp;nbsp;Am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've been telling friends I'm going to do this, the thing that amazes me again and again &amp;nbsp;is how not surprised they are. &amp;nbsp;I thought people would think I'm crazy, I mean I mention the money and pooping in a hole and yet they still think it's perfectly natural for me to do this. &amp;nbsp;Two quotes from friends, "I think sometimes people forget how awesome they are. &amp;nbsp;I think Melissa's forgotten." and "I'm sure your mom has been preparing for this for the past 9 years. &amp;nbsp;When you came back from the Balkans it was your whole life, the greatest thing you've ever done. &amp;nbsp;She knew you were going to have to travel again, she's just glad it took you 9 years to leave again." &amp;nbsp;And I started to remember the year I came back from Youth in Mission. &amp;nbsp;It was all I thought about all the time. &amp;nbsp;Going back, being a missionary, living a simpler, more Christ centered life. &amp;nbsp;And then I graduated and Sallie Mae started knocking on my door. &amp;nbsp;I got a job, an apartment and a normal average life. &amp;nbsp;And I forgot myself. &amp;nbsp;I won't go so far as to say I am/was awesome but I was set on changing the world and telling everyone about Christ. &amp;nbsp;And I've forgotten that. &amp;nbsp;I don't recognize that girl, but that's about to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My last "test" was telling my mom. &amp;nbsp;If she said I was crazy and wouldn't support me then I would seriously consider not going but nope, she's fine with it. &amp;nbsp;I really feel like mom secretly knew and did all this research. &amp;nbsp;She was calm, cool, collected and totally supportive. &amp;nbsp;Not what I was expecting. &amp;nbsp;So now I make plans. &amp;nbsp;Now I practice hiking, researching the best way to dig a hole in the ground to poop in, buy a tent and a sleeping bag and try to spiritually, mentally, physically and emotional prepare for something I'm pretty sure is impossible to be prepared for. &amp;nbsp;Prayers are always appreciated....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-4655966221284465249?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/4655966221284465249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=4655966221284465249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/4655966221284465249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/4655966221284465249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-really-going-to-do-this.html' title='I am really going to do this...'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-3015346113994202480</id><published>2010-09-14T09:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T09:45:36.271-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eeekkkkkk!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Interview today at 2pm.&amp;nbsp; Fingers crossed....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-3015346113994202480?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3015346113994202480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=3015346113994202480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/3015346113994202480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/3015346113994202480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/09/eeekkkkkk.html' title='Eeekkkkkk!!!!'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-3820659705741879355</id><published>2010-09-13T17:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T17:18:14.940-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WR'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>I Wanna be in the Here and Now</title><content type='html'>I met a girl on Saturday who leaves for The World Race (from here on out WR...it's long to type) on Oct. 1st. &amp;nbsp;October 1st. &amp;nbsp;She seems so excited and so ready and I really hope that if this is what I do I will feel in her same shoes. &amp;nbsp;I'm not sure I will. &amp;nbsp;I was able to spend about half an hour talking with her at this fundraiser dinner her friends were hosting for her (one of her friends is the friend who told me about this so if it weren't for Haile doing this amazing thing and my friend thinking I could hack it, I would still be wandering aimlessly wondering what to do). &amp;nbsp;She is so focused on the here and now. &amp;nbsp;She is ready to be in a new country, serving the Lord in a new way. &amp;nbsp;I get the feeling she always lives in the here and now. &amp;nbsp;I get stuck in the future. &amp;nbsp;More specifically I get stuck worrying about the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People keep saying how proud and amazed they are that I'm even considering this. &amp;nbsp;It's weird because I know many of my friends could do this, they just don't see it in themselves. &amp;nbsp;It's not the doing that scares me or seems like something to be proud of since we can all do it. &amp;nbsp;The scary part is the coming home. &amp;nbsp;I keep thinking (and worrying) about what will I do with my life when I get back. &amp;nbsp;It will be like a year just disappeared. &amp;nbsp;I will be jobless, homeless and sallie mae is always going to be there knocking on my door. &amp;nbsp;I'll probably move back home with my mom--at the age of 31 and get some random job meant for a 20 year old until I can figure some things out, all while trying to readjust to American culture after being gone for 11 months. &amp;nbsp;Seriously? &amp;nbsp;Seriously? &amp;nbsp;How do you even come back to that? &amp;nbsp;I cried in a supermarket after I was gone for 6 weeks to Eastern Europe. &amp;nbsp;I'm going to be a hot-mess. &amp;nbsp;An unemployed hot mess who still lives with her parents. &amp;nbsp;Can't wait to share that tidbit at my class reunion. Ok that last part was totally sarcastic and off the cuff because I do have to keep in mind that I will have the opportunity to TRAVEL THE WORLD!!!! &amp;nbsp;So I wasn't a hot mess my whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how I can get out from the future and live in the here and now. &amp;nbsp;How can I focus of what an awesome experience this is going to be?? &amp;nbsp;Maybe when/if I get accepted that will make it real. &amp;nbsp;My interview is tomorrow at 2pm and they say 7-10 days after that I'll find out. &amp;nbsp;Fingers crossed my friends, fingers crossed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-3820659705741879355?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/3820659705741879355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=3820659705741879355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/3820659705741879355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/3820659705741879355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-wanna-be-in-here-and-now.html' title='I Wanna be in the Here and Now'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-1724585994234569362</id><published>2010-09-07T19:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T19:12:16.942-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waiting'/><title type='text'>I could really be doing this...</title><content type='html'>So I hate waiting.  Absolutely hate waiting.  It's a terrible thing, I know but it doesn't change the fact that I hate waiting.  When I order a book from Amazon I'll track the package every day.  I'm the kid who will walk from grocery line to grocery line looking for the shortest one (I realize the time I spend looking is the same amount I would spend waiting, it's crazy I know).  But I have finally found a time when I wouldn't mind a longer wait.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I called World Race because I had questions that were nagging me--mostly about waiting.  So here's a bit of our conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: so the deadline isn't until May.  Does this mean I won't find out if I've been accepted till then?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rusty: Nope, we let people know within 7-10days of finishing the application.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Oh great (tightness is chest begins), so um, I was just wondering what's your application to acceptance rate?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rusty: Oh about 90%.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Great! (breath not coming as easily) Small talk, questions, small talk...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hang up the phone, look at my friend Jenn and say, I might really be doing this.  And then the pressure really starts to build.  I could really be doing this.  My interview (the last piece of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;application&lt;/span&gt;) is a week from today.  So realistically I will know 2 weeks from today if I am traveling the world for 11 months.  And it seems as though an act of God is really what's going to keep me out.  I could really be doing this.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I need a paper bag...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-1724585994234569362?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/1724585994234569362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=1724585994234569362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/1724585994234569362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/1724585994234569362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-could-really-be-doing-this.html' title='I could really be doing this...'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-6458669468648497367</id><published>2010-09-05T15:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T15:55:00.501-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><title type='text'>Racing to my Future?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so I've been holding out a bit.  My last post was all about having no idea what I want to do with my life and that's totally a true.  I'm almost 30 and have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.  I've always been jealous of people who just know--but that's not the point of this.  The point of this post is I think I know what I want to do at least for a year once I leave the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Naz&lt;/span&gt; and it is something I wasn't expecting nor fully convinced is what I'll do but I'm going out on a limb.  I'm taking a chance and holding my breath.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've known for a while now that I would be leaving the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Naz&lt;/span&gt; within the next year or two but only the past few months have I realized that it would be this year.  That May would be my last month in the place I have called home for what will have been 12 years.  At that point there was a big, open void of what my future could be like.  I hate choices.  I hate trying to decide what movie to see or what where to go for dinner so you can imagine the stress of now having to decide what career and location I would pick next.  I could go anywhere.  I could be anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Fast forward&lt;/span&gt; to a ridiculously hot summer day and my friend Jenn is over and we are chatting about life.  Jenn had just left the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Naz&lt;/span&gt; a few months ago, had gotten married, moved to a new town and started a new job.  I figured she would understand the anxiety I felt.  And all of a sudden she mentions this crazy opportunity her friend from church is doing called The World Race.  It's an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;organization&lt;/span&gt; that sends teams out around the world.  They spend one month in a different country for 11 months.  They have to raise a crazy amount of money to go on this trip and they get to do different &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;misson&lt;/span&gt; work in each country.  Some examples they give: manual labor, friendship &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;evangelism&lt;/span&gt;, working with orphans, AIDS/HIV.  I instantly dismissed it.  It sounded great and wonderful but I'm almost 30 for goodness sake.  I have to get a career and figure out my life (at least that is what my mom says &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; we talk).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But know you when someone says don't think about an elephant all you can think about is that darn elephant?  The World Race became my elephant.  I would find myself going to the website and reading every word on every page.  I started reading the blogs of people who were currently on trips and I would find myself feeling so connected to these people I had never met.  I would cry as they told their sorrows and laugh as they shared their happy--sometimes embarrassing moments and I started to think, can I do this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I do this means can I completely walk away from my friends and family for almost a year?  I'm pretty sure there's not the best communication in many of these countries we're going to.  Can I live out of a hiker's pack for 11 months.  For those who know me you know I'm a pack rat.  What mementos would I have to leave home to be able to fit enough toothpaste to last 11 months?  Can I physically do this?  Can I travel around the world with all my possessions on my back?  Can I convince my mom this is a good idea and I'm not just trying to avoid the "real world" for a little bit longer?  Can I rely on God and my team to keep me safe and sane through what I'm sure is going to be incredibly stressful and sometimes dangerous places and scenarios?  And of course, can I raise enough money to go on the trip, take care of travel expenses to training and whatnot, get insurance and be able to pay student loans while I'm away.  The answer is clearly no.  I can't do this.  But God can.  So with Him I'm sure that "we" can do this.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now the tricky part.  Is this what God wants?  No idea.  There's been no burning bush or quiet voice.   Even though the hurricane came through there has been no writing in the sky through lightning or a message written on the ground.  So there isn't a yes and there isn't a no.  But there has been a reminder over and over to trust and obey.  To put Him first and believe things work out in the end.  So now I've applied and started to tell people.  I haven't told my mom yet.  I don't want to freak her out if it's not going to happen.  I have a phone interview in 2 weeks.  We'll see what happens.  If I'm accepted well that's step one.  If not, back to the drawing board but at least I'll have the joy of knowing that when presented with the opportunity to put everything on the line for God I was willing to do it.  There was a time not too long ago when I don't think I would have made the same choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're interested in learning more here's the website for The World Race.  Read at own risk:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://www.theworldrace.org/&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&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/9221176218071329098-6458669468648497367?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6458669468648497367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=6458669468648497367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/6458669468648497367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/6458669468648497367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/09/racing-to-my-future.html' title='Racing to my Future?'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-4398246510714670936</id><published>2010-08-31T19:35:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T09:56:18.892-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Careers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fail'/><title type='text'>What Another Post??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/TH2tI8Aqf0I/AAAAAAAAABo/UIigbaexfrc/s1600/n149000234_30389523_7012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/TH2tI8Aqf0I/AAAAAAAAABo/UIigbaexfrc/s200/n149000234_30389523_7012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511751888030826306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/TH2s9l_XHrI/AAAAAAAAABg/BcZCkMzkM7I/s1600/n149000234_30389523_7012.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I thought I had posted this last night but apparently I'm lame and saved instead of posting.  I was so excited to write three days in a row but now I missed yesterday.  Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; crazy I know to be writing again.  I have 30 minutes until my very last all hall meeting and there is literally nothing I want to do.  I've tweaked and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;retweaked&lt;/span&gt; my syllabus (first day of class tomorrow), I've read until my head hurt and there's only so much bejeweled blitz I can play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been thinking about how to figure out my life's purpose so that in June I can have some idea of where to go and I think the best way (for now at least) is to figure out all the things I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; want to do.  So in no particular order:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Things I Should Not Do With My Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Sales&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;--I worked in an Admissions Office for 3 years and I'm pretty sure I never want to sell anything again.  I loved and believed in the "product" with all of my heart and soul but I hated having to make cold calls and even more so having people reject what I was selling.  I can't imagine if it was something I didn't care for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Building Director&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;--I have loved (most) of my time at ENC--especially as a Resident Director.  I have loved the fast pace, the relationships, the excitement and the instant social life.  I do not love the feeling of never leaving work since I live where I work.  I do not love having very limited vacation options.  I d0 not love having to deal with non-emergencies at 3am because everything is an emergency to some students.  I have given my heart, soul, blood, sweat, tears, social life and energy to this job.  I will walk away proud of the work I have done and with a little sadness in my heart.  I will however, walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Firefighter&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;--I'm pretty terrified of fire and I'm pretty sure I won't make the body requirement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Flight Attendant/Model/Tight Rope Performer/Dancer/Other Jobs that depend on looks&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;--Please see above body requirement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Police Officer&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;--I'm pretty sure I could never kill someone, even if they are about to hurt someone else.  I mean I'm against the death penalty.  And I could never catch a criminal if I had to chase them on foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Photographer&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;--I love taking pictures but the only ones that are good are the ones that I'm in also.  Please see the example at the top of the page.I'm not sure how parents would feel about me being in their child's first picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More brainstorming to come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-4398246510714670936?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/4398246510714670936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=4398246510714670936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/4398246510714670936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/4398246510714670936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-another-post.html' title='What Another Post??'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/TH2tI8Aqf0I/AAAAAAAAABo/UIigbaexfrc/s72-c/n149000234_30389523_7012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-7058371242969708564</id><published>2010-08-30T13:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T14:23:30.340-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving on'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><title type='text'>274 To Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So I've made a pretty huge decision.  I am finally leaving the Naz after being here since August 1999.  I've committed to finishing this year and then I'm out.  That's in 274 days.  That's terrifying.  I know without a shadow of doubt it's the right thing but my whole life all I've ever known is home and ENC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I realized I would probably die at ENC because it was easy and it was safe.  I'm in a rut and I feel my life flying by.  I had all these visions and goals of traveling the world and making a difference and though I know I've helped students while they've been at ENC I know there is more out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unfortunate part is I have NO IDEA what I want to be when I grow up.  And I'm already a grown up.  I feel like a high school student all over again with the world just open for the taking.  So for the next 274 days I'm going to try and figure out what I want to be when I grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions or thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-7058371242969708564?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7058371242969708564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=7058371242969708564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/7058371242969708564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/7058371242969708564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/08/274-to-go.html' title='274 To Go'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-2532590048854887914</id><published>2010-01-14T23:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T00:12:05.797-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Much Culture So Little Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So this summer a friend and I decided to get a Season Pass to Boston theaters.  We are literally in the last row but we have tickets to all the big shows this year.   It's nice because there are so many shows I would love to see but I either don't have time or the money to buy the tickets.  But here we specifically picked the day (Thursday of opening week) so I've already spend the ticket and it was put on the calendar months ago.  In November we saw Fiddler on the Roof which was great.  I hadn't seen the show in so long and I just remember thinking it was really fun.  I don't know if you've seen Fiddler recently but it's not actually fun.  It's sad and heartbreaking.  It's heartbreaking to see how pigheadedness can destroy a family and the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight we saw In the Heights.  I can't tell you how refreshing, beautiful, fun and exciting it was.  It takes place in New York City's Washington Heights area.  It's a story about community.  The residents are from Cuba, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Puerto&lt;/span&gt; Rico and the Dominican Republic.  This show was amazing because it would have been so easy to fall into stereotypes.  There's a character called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Graffiti&lt;/span&gt; Pete--it would be so easy to make him a terrible youth but instead he used his talents to make the neighborhood beautiful.  Another character comes into money and could use this for selfish or negative reasons but instead tries to help make the neighborhood better.  A girl falls in love with a guy the dad doesn't approve of.  Does he disown her?  No, they fight but supports her in her decision.  There's no drugs, alcohol, theft or any other negative stereotype.  The play showed people from a poor area loving and supporting each other not hating and destroying.  It made me believe in the good of life again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I also had the pleasure of going to a real high tea at this quaint tea house down the road from school.  I went with my book group--yep I belong to a book group.  There are 3 under the age of 30 and 5 over the age of 50.  It's probably the best book group ever.  We are currently reading Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder which I highly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;recommend&lt;/span&gt;!  So we had tea, scones and little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sandwiches&lt;/span&gt; with the crusts cut off.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Delicious&lt;/span&gt;.  While we were there we obviously talked about the tragedy in Haiti.  We were so impressed with the power of technology.  The Red Cross is fundraising money through text messaging.  All people have to do is text HAITI to 90999 and $10 is added to their cell bill.  100% goes to relief efforts.  In two days they have received 5 million dollars just through texts.  Amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I arrived back home I continued reading the book which takes place mostly in Haiti a little over 10 years ago and there was a quote that stuck out to me, "The world is full of miserable places.  One way of living comfortably is not to think about them or, when you do to send money."  This is the author's initial response when hearing about the poverty in Haiti.  He gives money periodically until he actual goes to Haiti and from what I can only assume because I'm not too far into the book, his life, worldview and beliefs are radically changed.  I'm excited for how this book will impact me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And finally on my culture tour, tomorrow night my office is going to see The Good Negro.  This is the story of a woman who is beaten for taking her daughter to a restroom.  She's beaten &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; she's black, it's 1960 in Alabama, in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;white's&lt;/span&gt; only restroom.  This is probably going to be the most depressing play I've ever seen.  Part of me doesn't want to watch.  I think it'll just be painful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is my culture adventure.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-2532590048854887914?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/2532590048854887914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=2532590048854887914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/2532590048854887914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/2532590048854887914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-much-culture-so-little-time.html' title='So Much Culture So Little Time'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-5293342927421064680</id><published>2009-09-18T23:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T23:29:13.051-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Forget Being a Toys R Us Kid!</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty sure I've decided that the purpose of my life is to slowly find out what I dont' want to do with my life.  I know most people start with what they want to do in life and move forward to make that happen but every time I think I've found a career that could bring me joy for years to come I quickly realize that if I actually had that magical, fabulous career I would hate my life in a year or two.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How do people know what they want to be when they grow up???  And I'm almost 29, aren't I grown up enough yet to have a life plan???  I hate that stupid question, where do you see yourself in 5 years?  I don't know, the same exact place I am now, the same place I've been for the past 4 years specifically or 10 years generally.  Grrrrrr...all I need is a little direction...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-5293342927421064680?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5293342927421064680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=5293342927421064680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/5293342927421064680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/5293342927421064680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2009/09/forget-being-toys-r-us-kid.html' title='Forget Being a Toys R Us Kid!'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-7744496322295601239</id><published>2009-04-04T01:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T01:33:19.316-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='OKC Bombing'/><title type='text'>Measured by One Minute</title><content type='html'>I am currently in Oklahoma City at Southern Nazarene University for a conference and you know the weird thing?  I love it.  Not the conference or SNU (though those are both fabulous and add to my love) but Oklahoma!  Being born and raised in New England I have expectations, I judge the rest of the country thinking obviously New England is the greatest place in America.  And when I tell people I live outside of Boston I usually hear statements to confirm this thought but there is just something about this place.  It's not even anything specific.  This next sentence is slightly scary for me but I'm writing it down anyway: I feel at home here.  I've only been here since Wed and yet I already feel more comfortable and at peace than I do in Quincy and I've been there almost 10 years.  I'm not ready to up and move but it does make me think about what I want to be the next step in my life...not that I have an answer yet to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as part of this conference we went the the OKC Bombing Memorial/Museum.  There are not words to describe this place.  It was just incredible.  It's huge and beautiful and real and tragic and sad and hopeful and hard and relaxing/calming.  If you are ever in OKC you NEED to go.  I'm still reeling from it.  When I get back to ENC I'll post pictures of facebook so look there, but I did just want to talk about one particular part of the memorial.  On the outside is this crazy, gigantic wall and on one side it has a quote about the purpose of the memorial and on the other side of this wall it just says 9:01 and there is this long, beautiful reflecting pool and at the other end is an exact replica of the first wall except this one says 9:03.  The brochure says this shows, "the East Gate represents 9:01am on April 19, and the innocence of the city before the attack.  The West Gate represents 9:03am, the moment we were changed forever, and the hope that came from the horror in the moments and days following the bombing."  The bomb went off at 9:02am.  Literally in one minute everything changed.  I just keep thinking about time being frozen for that one minute.  Wondering how the people experiencing this felt..was this the longest 60 seconds they ever felt or did they just lose time.  One minute they are running late--supposed to be at a meeting at 9, dashing through the hallway and the next thing the realize it's hours later and they are trying to stay alive and make sense of what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also makes me think about how I wish time by so much.  I constantly am looking to the next event, the next thing on my schedule and I get so stressed out about time, will I be late, will I make it, do I have a minute to freshen up first.  I waste so many minutes.  What if during that one minute I'm stressing about my next meeting I call my mom instead just to leave a message saying I love her or text a friend I haven't spoken with for a while.  What if I say a quick prayer of thank to God or smile at the person rushing by me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I stood there surrounded by death, destruction and hope I knew I needed to make my minutes count.  As I looked at the chairs (amazing!) representing the people who died I wondered what they had planned from 9:01am to 9:03am and if they knew what would they have done differently.  Did they waste time like me or will the time to go faster?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to value every minute I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-7744496322295601239?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/7744496322295601239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=7744496322295601239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/7744496322295601239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/7744496322295601239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2009/04/measured-by-one-minute.html' title='Measured by One Minute'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-6197569861417366490</id><published>2008-09-12T14:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T14:28:30.111-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dancing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ENC'/><title type='text'>Exhausted....</title><content type='html'>If I had to pick one word to describe my most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;consistent&lt;/span&gt; feeling it would be exhausted.  I'm only teaching two class one at 9:05 and the other at 11:30 on M/W/F and yet I just feel like a go, go, go all day everyday!  I know it's because it's the beginning of the year and trying to get everything settled and on a schedule but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep going before I just plain fall over.  It also doesn't help that this week is Welcome Week and as the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SGA&lt;/span&gt; adviser I have to go to their events and last night there was a harbor cruise and I was a driver.  I didn't get to my bed until 3:15am and then I had to teach at 9:05, I kind of  hate my life today!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it has finally happened...there was dancing at an ENC event!!!!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, it wasn't planned or organized it just happened.  And this could have been the opportunity for the students to show administration that they can handle dancing.  That dancing doesn't always lead to sex and that you won't burst into flames and be sent instantly into the pits of hell for dancing.  This could have been great.  Unfortunately the administration is kind of right.  Students are unable to just dance and have a good time without turning into these crazy, repressed now coming out, sexual beasts.  It started off innocent enough just a few people on the dance floor doing some fun little spins, lots of space between guys and girls and really light mood.  And then all of a sudden "Dollar, Dollar Bills" (I'm unsure if that's the actual title) came on and it turn instantly into a seedy Boston club.  There was butt smacking, gyrating, grinding, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;droppin&lt;/span&gt; it like it's hot and a whole host of other completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;inappropriate&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-ENC motions.  We we quickly killed that music and then only played oldies and songs that have group dances (Cotton Eye Joe, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Macarena&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Cha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cha&lt;/span&gt; Slide, etc.)  and students danced the rest of the night away in a much more ENC friendly way...if you can have ENC friendly dancing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-6197569861417366490?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/6197569861417366490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=6197569861417366490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/6197569861417366490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/6197569861417366490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2008/09/exhausted.html' title='Exhausted....'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-8025823879341970711</id><published>2008-09-01T21:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T21:48:51.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New, Scary and Exciting!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;So I've got some exciting news....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm teaching a class this fall!  Actually I'm teaching two classes this fall.  It's the same class but two different sections.  It's called Reading for College and it's a developmental freshman class.  On M/W/F I have 14 freshman from 905-1010am and T/TH I have 11 freshman from 8-915am.  That's so early!  I've gotten used to coming into the office at 10 every day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm so excited and this is something I have wanted for a long time but I am also terrified out of my mind.  I know I can do it.  I know I have the personality for it but what if they don't learn anything?  What if it is just fun (I am really going to focus on reading fun because I feel that's a huge problem is students have been forced to read their whole life books they don't understand so it's not enjoyable...I will teach the joy of reading!) and not educational?  What if I lead them terrible astray and their other professors or instructors say I'm telling them all the wrong thing??  BAH!  I can't get too focused on the fears.  Focus on the good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;So that's my big news.  In other news the new freshmen are here.  They arrived on Saturday and so far I love them!  They are really outgoing and funny and seem really kind.  Kindness is something that I saw all the time when I was a student but has been missing the past few years.  I think this class is bringing it back which is super exciting.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Also I have almost all new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;RAs&lt;/span&gt; this year.  Only 1 is a returner which made me nervous but so far it has been working out really well!  They are so excited and willing to do whatever it takes and their hearts are really focused towards teamwork and seeking after Jesus.  I am blessed whenever I am in their company.  They are superb and I am excited to work with them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I think the theme for this post is excited...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-8025823879341970711?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8025823879341970711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=8025823879341970711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/8025823879341970711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/8025823879341970711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-scary-and-exciting.html' title='New, Scary and Exciting!'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-8370324755234333528</id><published>2008-08-08T20:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T20:15:55.144-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='married and singles'/><title type='text'>The Theme of My Life??</title><content type='html'>So yesterday I drove up to Maine because the summer camp I worked at for 7 summers of my life celebrated it's 50th year with a camp reunion.  I was excited to see people and walk around my old home away from home.  This was probably equally as life changing as ENC--in some ways even more so.  I'm not going to lie...and this is going to make me wicked cheesy but...when I drove into the town where it's located I started to cry a little.  Lame I know!  When I finally got to the camp I shut the car off and just took some deep breaths to calm my racing heart.  I felt like I had come home.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reunion was great, I walked all around camp remembering funny and sad things, talked to campers and wondered how I could have given that much energy all the time for 8 weeks every year, saw some ENCers who were working and caught up with old friends.  Everyone was married, most had kids and their first question for me was, "So are you seeing anyone?"  They all wondered why I wasn't married with children.  I'm the same age as all of them but apparently way behind the curve.  So I've been thinking about singles and marrieds for a few days now and here I am face to face with it.  I have been very fortunate to be blessed with married friends who know me and love me and I never feel judged or weird.  But when I run in to people I haven't seen in years it's almost uncomfortable to talk about my singleness.  Is it too late to rent a date for my college reunion?  Like in the Wedding Date?  Where does one even look for that??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-8370324755234333528?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/8370324755234333528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=8370324755234333528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/8370324755234333528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/8370324755234333528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2008/08/theme-of-my-life.html' title='The Theme of My Life??'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9221176218071329098.post-5845649799533540042</id><published>2008-08-06T15:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T15:58:26.009-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='married life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reunions'/><title type='text'>Transition...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So for the longest time ever I used to blog on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;xanga&lt;/span&gt; but then that got old and blogger seems to be the new place to go so here I am.  I have no idea what to do with my old blog now.  There are some posts that I really really liked, do I copy and paste them here, do I save them to a disk--does anyone save to a disk anymore???  This is something I will have to ponder for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news it's almost time for my fifth year college reunion and I am really working hard to make sure people come.  It's been this weird mix of responses.  Those with families are really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gung&lt;/span&gt; ho for going.  They are planning on it and even willing to help out.  The people who are still single are much more apprehensive.  I've even noticed the classmates with children are even more excited than the married couples who are just married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've talked with some of my single classmates and there is this feeling of what could I bring to the discussion.  They feel as though they are not nearly as successful since they aren't married with children.  These are people who have great and interesting jobs, traveled the world, gotten masters, working on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ph&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ds&lt;/span&gt;, and have just had amazing life experiences since leaving college but still they feel inadequate standing next to the family man or woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I graduated from a small, Christian college.  I'm curious if this is something seen at larger or non Christian schools.  And should I be nervous?  Not only am I not married with children but I never even left the college.  But I'm happy with my life and my experiences.  I just need to keep repeating that I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9221176218071329098-5845649799533540042?l=mlowell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/feeds/5845649799533540042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9221176218071329098&amp;postID=5845649799533540042' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/5845649799533540042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9221176218071329098/posts/default/5845649799533540042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mlowell.blogspot.com/2008/08/transition.html' title='Transition...'/><author><name>MLo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09616782314170235311</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dA7k1ZSRVuU/SJn-TFw049I/AAAAAAAAAAg/pqpW_fItwSQ/s1600-R/n149000234_30303147_7530.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
