<?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-8272747469530368374</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:25:31.847-07:00</updated><category term='Relationships'/><category term='Time to heal'/><title type='text'>Karla's head</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-6304850056166442738</id><published>2008-10-16T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T08:29:17.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Geographic desirability</title><content type='html'>So... .here I am back in the wonderful world of "dating".... I live in San Diego, love it here.... Over 3 million people in the area.... And why, why pray tell can I not find someone to date in my general vacinity? The last realtionship I was in he lived over 100 miles away, we made it work for a year until other things couldn't be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to current situation.... I have met the most amazing man, we click on every possible level you could want to connect on.... Except ONE... Geographic desireability.... He lives in San Francisco.... REALLY?!?!?! 500 miles away? Now granted, there is that wonderful saying.... If its meant to be its meant to be...And if its not, then its not.. So now I get to play the faith and lack of self will game, me no play that game so well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know its been a long time since I have posted, but needed somewhere to vent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272747469530368374-6304850056166442738?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/6304850056166442738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=6304850056166442738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/6304850056166442738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/6304850056166442738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/10/geographic-desirability.html' title='Geographic desirability'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-1712771157357119366</id><published>2008-02-20T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T14:17:40.907-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have come to the realization that I have friends who are much stronger than they let themselves believe.  I have friends who are married to men that are active duty soldiers, and I have other friends who are actively over in Iraq.  I have always had a soft spot in me for music that is directed at our soldiers, and the war.  But hearing this song last week, I couldn't not stop crying.  These men and women are making the ultimate sacrifice on a daily basis, leaving their loved ones, missing children's firsts, missing family member's lasts....&lt;br /&gt;To those who are going through it please know that I love you for your sacrifice, and I love you for my freedom.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a minute to read the lyrics if you know the song, read it anyways, if you don't... you should look it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim McGraw.....I'm Already Home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're reading this, my mama's sittin there&lt;br /&gt;Look's like I only got a one way ticket over here&lt;br /&gt;I sure wish I could give you one more kiss&lt;br /&gt;War was just a game we played when we were kids&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm layin down my gun and hanging up my boots&lt;br /&gt;I'm up here with God and we're both watching over you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lay me down&lt;br /&gt;In that open field out on the edge of town&lt;br /&gt;And know my soul &lt;br /&gt;Is where my mama always prayed that it would go&lt;br /&gt;And if you're reading this&lt;br /&gt;I'm already home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're reading this halfway around the world&lt;br /&gt;I won't be there to see the birth of our little girl&lt;br /&gt;I hope she looks like you&lt;br /&gt;I hope she fights like me&lt;br /&gt;And stands up for the innocent and the weak&lt;br /&gt;I'm layin down my gun and hanging up my boots&lt;br /&gt;Tell dad I don't regret that I followed in his shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lay me down&lt;br /&gt;In that open field out on the edge of town&lt;br /&gt;And know my soul &lt;br /&gt;Is where my mama always prayed that it would go&lt;br /&gt;And if you're reading this&lt;br /&gt;I'm already home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're reading this, there's gonna come a day&lt;br /&gt;When you'll move on and find someone else, and that's ok&lt;br /&gt;Just remember this&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a better place&lt;br /&gt;Where soldiers live in peace and angels sing Amazing Grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lay me down&lt;br /&gt;In that open field out on the edge of town&lt;br /&gt;And know my soul &lt;br /&gt;Is where my mama always prayed that it would go&lt;br /&gt;And if you're reading this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're reading this...&lt;br /&gt;I'm already home&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272747469530368374-1712771157357119366?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/1712771157357119366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=1712771157357119366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/1712771157357119366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/1712771157357119366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-have-come-to-realization-that-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-3863388839483767289</id><published>2008-01-27T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T11:42:38.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Garth Brooks</title><content type='html'>So I went to Garth Brooks last night!!!!  What an experience, I was so impressed by his energy and his passion for what he does.  He is quite an entertainer!!!  So we went to Two of his Five show fundraiser for the firefighters fund.....  In toll He raised over 10 million dollars for the California firefighters, I couldn't help but cry when he said that...  To have a person make an agreement that all services and the cost of the shows would be donated....It was awesome.  So we went to the first show, and the surprise of the evening was a duet with his wife Trisha Yearwood!!!!  They did "In Another's Eye's", it was amazing!!!  Then she did "Walk away Joe"...SO COOL!!!!  THEN!!!!!!  There was a woman in the front row by the stage that had a sign that said PICK ME.... (meaning, give me a pick)  So Garth stepped up the request a little, and not only gave her a pick, But he took off his guitar, and handed it to her...and then signed it!!!!  I cried It was to moving!!!  So this was the 1:00 show, we had tickets for the 5:00 show also.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px;"&gt;So we came back for the 5:00 show, we had seats, but they were'nt the greatest....We were, how shall I say.... In the nose bleed of nose bleed sections....  When we got the place where the usher checks our seats he pointed even FURTHER UP!!!  OYE!!!  So we get to our seats, and just as I sit down the usher points to me and fingers for me to come back down to him.  At which point he tells me that we just missed this guy who was looking for three people to give floor seats to, but if he sees him again he will tell him about us..... So within three minutes here comes the guy again, and he has a woman with him and the usher points at us they all finger for us to come down, and we go down and we go down to them and the woman hands us three tickets and says ENJOY, we look at the tickets.....FRONT ROW SEATS!!!!!!  HOLY COW!!!!  We start screaming and laughing and running down to the floor to get our seats....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px;"&gt;I not only got tons of pictures of him, I got a drum stick from the drummer, which I gave to my friend Stephanie, it was the least I could for the girl who bought the tickets....  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px;"&gt;So this show he leaves the stage for a break before an encore, and one of the concession workers is down there, she just wants to meet the guy... She asks him "what's it like?"  So he brings her up on stage, has the audience go crazy for her, she's on her break and is nervous that they are gonna fire her, he laughs and says they wont fire her, he'll make sure of it!  then he sits her down sings her a song and then givers her his hat.....  And then has everyone there with cameras take a GREAT picture with he and her, it was so sweet.....  Again crying... But so great to see a man so in love with what he does and how he does it... This will have to go down as one of the Top 3 experiences in my life so far....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272747469530368374-3863388839483767289?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/3863388839483767289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=3863388839483767289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/3863388839483767289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/3863388839483767289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/01/garth-brooks.html' title='Garth Brooks'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-1450197298000697722</id><published>2008-01-16T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T18:14:00.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sea-ing both sides</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R464i0zoW_I/AAAAAAAAAAY/9DxOKNktyco/s1600-h/arch+ckose+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R464i0zoW_I/AAAAAAAAAAY/9DxOKNktyco/s320/arch+ckose+up.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156261531816057842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;There is nothing more empowering than knowing that there is another side to whatever it is I am going through at any given moment.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;I was talking to a friend the other night and she said you know the good thing about talking to, I can tell you that when you get to the other side of this it will be better, you know this from experience.  Where as another girl she was talking to earlier, she said the same thing to and the response was,  "yeah that's what they say."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;I, thank God have the experience behind me and the hope ahead of me to know that things may not get better but they will get different.  My will is that it will get better, but time will tell if that's in fact God's will for me, he just may need for it to be different for a while, and I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&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/8272747469530368374-1450197298000697722?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/1450197298000697722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=1450197298000697722' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/1450197298000697722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/1450197298000697722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/01/sea-ing-both-sides.html' title='Sea-ing both sides'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R464i0zoW_I/AAAAAAAAAAY/9DxOKNktyco/s72-c/arch+ckose+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-8435953037491185146</id><published>2008-01-09T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T18:56:08.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dec 15, 1995 When Everything changed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 255, 255);font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:medium;"&gt;Something a little different tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It was your average Friday night in the  South Bay.  I had just come home from a fun loving day of holding warm bundles of love to rush and get ready for the company holiday party in Marina Del Rey.  I was doing my best to look as amazing as possible as it was a pretty big night for the boyfriend and I.  My mother came into my room (yes I was living at home), and asked if she could come....  Mom and I were partners in crime when it came to clubbing, and bar hopping.  I was very excited about this new idea for my evening, and when my step-dad came home we tried and tried.... and tried some more, to convince him that he should enjoy some adult beverages and some trashy party songs of the mid 90's.  He could not be swayed, even by my mother's energetic flashing and telling him,"he'd get lucky". So I proceeded to finish getting ready and informed my mom that I would call her when dinner was over, prior to the dancing and see if there was any progress in getting my step-dad to come along.  I also let her know that I would be staying at Kevin's house that night, albeit, he only lives five houses away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So the evening commenced.... dining and drinking and drinking and dining... finally around 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; I guess I called home to see if she was going to be able to make it,   She had fought the good fight, but with no success.  At approximately 11 Kevin had, had enough of the crowd, he's not a big people person... so we headed home.  However, I was far from done with my evening, I wanted to dance a little more so I dropped him off and went to my favorite watering hole in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hermosa&lt;/span&gt; Beach, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Besties&lt;/span&gt;.  I stayed for an hour or so and then headed back to Kevin's (the guilt had set in).  It was now approximately 1 am and I was heading down my street and drove passed my house, only to notice my parents bedroom lights were still on, ODD!!!!  But whatever, I had other things to do, mainly Kevin.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After a night of sleep there was a knock on the bedroom door, Kevin's roommate Darrell, "yo, Kev, is K in there?"  I responded Yeah Darrell what's up, it was approximately 9 am at the latest.  "You have a phone call"......Odd as no one would EVER call me there, no one knows the # there and more importantly they would have no business calling for ME there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;So I quickly get up and go out tho the kitchen to take the call, as you can guess this is before common place cell phones, this is 1995.  I pick up the receiver  and it is my step father, very huffy..... I ask what the problem is, and the words that are to follow would change my life forever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;  "Your mom didn't come home last night!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"what are you talking about, Jeff?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"your mom, she went shopping last night and never came home!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"I'll be right there!!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I hung up and went running down the hall yelling at Kevin to get up and get dressed we needed to be at my house NOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Less than 10 minutes later we were walking in through the garage and running upstairs.  I found Jeff standing in the living room looking frazzled.  I asked what EXACTLY had happened.  He told me that my mom apparently wanted to finish his birthday shopping and went out to the mall, and had yet to return.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Now, being the daughter,  of a police officer, my first instinct was to call my dad and ask what we needed to do to file a missing persons report.  He gave me all the "special" words to use so we would get the appropriate treatment, and I called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Redondo&lt;/span&gt; Beach PD immediately.  within the half hour there was an officer at our door ready to take a report and any current pictures we had of her as reference.  (So surreal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The next step in this miserable adventure was the single worst phone call I have ever had to make in my life.  I called my sister Samantha in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Yucaipa&lt;/span&gt;, asked her if she was alone, as she has two daughters who at the time were 7 and 3 I believe.  She said she was alone and i proceeded to tell her that our mother was.... Missing.  Now, I could handle the screams from her the frantic questions, I was still holding it together pretty well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Da'Nile&lt;/span&gt;... It's not just a river in Egypt, my friends.  I was fine until I heard one of the girls in the background say, "what's wrong mommy, what's wrong with Nana?"  then the fear set in, the severity of what could be at stake set in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I asked her to come down and she was immediately on her way.  In the mean time Kevin and I started combing the mall parking lots for my mother's car, of course in retrospect a futile act.  When Samantha got there we went down to the police station to meet with the two investigators who would be handling the case, detectives Sturgeon, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Seigler&lt;/span&gt;.  They informed us that our best net was to let the media in on this information, we would be able to use the public eye to help find her.  They were very specific when they said, "the media will be your best asset, until we find her, then they will become your worst enemy, no matter what the out come is."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It didn't matter, we needed help and fast.  so immediately all Los Angeles news channels were notified, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13.... That's a lot of coverage.  We "staged" a search at the South Bay Galleria Mall, it was demoralizing and looking back it was for show and nothing more.  By the time the 10:00 and 11:00 news aired we were the lead story on every channel, so strange to see yourself on TV in that medium.  the phone was ringing off the hook and tons of people had come to the house to offer their assistance in an fashion possible, including the women we would later find out had ulterior motives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;By Sunday morning I knew there were certain things I needed to do, first call work and tell them I wouldn't be in on Monday unless things changed drastically in this present 24 hours.  Then there was a knock at my front door, it was my ex-boyfriend, forget calling, people just started showing up.  He asked if I wanted he and his friend to go search up the Angeles Crest highway, as a young woman from the South Bay had been found there recently murdered.  I didn't quite know what to say, so I just said YES.  Another friend was a manager for Kinko's and she offered to make color copies for us for free.  My mother's company that she had been employed with for many years offered to do the same.... In the end I think we distributed over 5,00 flyer's from Santa Monica to Long beach, you couldn't look anywhere with seeing my mom, except it wasn't her, just a picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;On the hour every hour for the next two days we were the lead story.... Mind you it is a week before Christmas in LA, great lead story huh, way to boost the holiday spirit.  So Sunday comes and goes, we have people bringing food, like we're gonna eat, volunteering to pass out flyer's, and to sit with Jeff since he was incapable of leaving the phone, in case she called, or in case someone called.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Monday we are out and about passing out flyer's again, I decided to go to 3rd street Promenade and hit up the masses there.  There, something strange happens, I see a couple coming out of Champion's restaurant, and I attempted to hand them a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;flyer&lt;/span&gt;, granted there are hundreds of hand bills that go out there nightly, but the gentleman snubs me, puts his hand up and brushes me off.  Mind you I have Channel 11 with me taping this, and I say, " I hope its never your wife or your daughter that's missing, and you need the help."  His wife immediately  reached out to grab a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;flyer&lt;/span&gt; to help out and apologized for his rude behavior.  The next encounter was actually quite humorous; a homeless man came up and asked what was going on, I told him my situation and he asked, "if I find her what do I get?"  We had no reward set up yet so all I could offer was my undying gratitude, and he said that wasn't going to get him anywhere so he declined to be of assistance.  Monday night we were offered a spot on Channel 8, the city council meeting coverage channel.  So my sister and I went down and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;plead&lt;/span&gt; with the public to please come forward with ANY information regarding my mom's disappearance.  By now we were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;offering&lt;/span&gt; a $10,000 reward. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I had my best friend come down for support also.  I had to beg my sister to go home now.  Her daughters have seen us on TV all weekend and they needed to be with their mom, especially since there was no new news in the last 48 hours.  She needed to go and be with them and I promised that I  would call if there was any new information.  So she left and Kevin, Christa, and I all decided to call it a night.  Before turning in for the night I looked outside where all the news vans were (they had been lined up across from my house all weekend).  It was approximately 10:30 pm and there were still two vans outside which was odd.  But we needed sleep, so we turned out the lights and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Just when we had settled in, I heard the front gate....What the hell?  The ONLY people that should be here should be the police, we aren't doing any interviews this late.  So I went upstairs.....It was Sturgeon and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Siegler&lt;/span&gt;.....There was news.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My step dad and I sat at the dining room table to listen to what they had to say...they had received an onslaught of calls after out appearance on Channel 8, who knew people actually watched that stuff?  They have found my mom's car.  They wanted to know if we wanted them to "watch the car for the next 12 hours to see if anyone returns to it", or move in on it now and get whatever information they could from it.  My step-dad jumped at the idea of "watching the car", I had no real idea so I agreed, I was stunned that they had found the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They informed us that at noon tomorrow there would be a press conference but until then we needed to pretend as thought there was no information, so we needed to continue passing out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;fliers&lt;/span&gt; and canvasing neighborhoods.  That was rough.  By the time we got to the house it was noon and there house was FILLED, there must have been 50 to 75 people there, friends family, volunteers, co-workers.  We were watching the story unravel on the screen and it was so strange, then the two officers came in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They stood in front of the crowd and announced...."there is a body in the trunk."  They stated that they couldn't identify the body and didn't know if it was male or female, they needed someone to identify the body.  I sat in my chair watching everything move around me, my sister had flung herself onto the living room floor, screaming and crying, my step-dad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;buried&lt;/span&gt; his face in his hands and I started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;mumbling&lt;/span&gt; something about its not her, its not her...There's no way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The next step was to call my dad and ask if he could go with my step-brother and identify the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;body&lt;/span&gt;.  My sister wanted to do it, I had to tell her that was the worst possible idea she had, had in years.  So my dad agreed to come down.  At about 3 or so he got there and he and my step brother went to the LA County Coroner's office, I was down in my room, with all my friends and my sister, don't remember what time it was I just know it was dark outside when my dad got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;back&lt;/span&gt; to the house.  I was sitting on the end of my bed and my sister was on the phone near the top of the bed on the phone and he sat in between us, we asked her to get off the phone and she finally did.  My dad put his arm around me and looked at me so gently as the words he was about to say were going to such a harsh blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;"It's her, baby; I'm so sorry"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I didn't or couldn't accept it , ad the only thing I could think to say to my dad, the man who had been married to my mom for 13 years, was...."Are you sure?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;He just nodded his head, and held me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;What will come next is the aftermath.  What happens to a family after a tragedy like this, how a community comes together, and a family falls apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;thank you for being patient while I write this, it wasn't easy and took a lot of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I hope for those of you that know me, this gives you a little insight to my life.  For those of you that don't now, you know more about me than you ever needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 255, 255); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&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/8272747469530368374-8435953037491185146?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/8435953037491185146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=8435953037491185146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/8435953037491185146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/8435953037491185146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/01/d.html' title='Dec 15, 1995 When Everything changed'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-102882488868258505</id><published>2008-01-07T15:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T15:44:43.974-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationships'/><title type='text'>Jan 7th 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);font-size:medium;"&gt;Ok, so having started a new blog-spot... No pun intended, I will start with a clearer head.  I am sitting in the sunny 68 degree weather of San Diego, at Zanzibar having tea with a friend whom I just turned on to blogging as well.  Good times!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I feel as though having the storms pass over the last few days and having everything washed clean its a good way to start my week.  Being the metaphorical Sunday through Saturday, then my week ended HORRIBLY with the onslaught of storms it was fitting.  This being a new week, I can say I have no more clarity than  it ended with, and I am doing everything I can to not spend time in my head as it is a place currently I won't survive in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I am, for those of you who know me and for those that don't, still very painfully in love with a man.  The pain comes in the form of a relationship that we can't seem to get to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Now some of you will and have said that if its meant to be it will be, or it's in God's hands, or my favorite &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This too shall pass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;......  I wish I could see the other side right now and know what the outcome will be for me.  But as with other adventures in my life I didn't know the outcome going in but I was still willing to do the work to get through it.  So that is what I am currently doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I get wait and be patient and see what the outcome for me is to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Blessed be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;~K~&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/8272747469530368374-102882488868258505?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/102882488868258505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=102882488868258505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/102882488868258505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/102882488868258505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/01/jan-7th-2008.html' title='Jan 7th 2008'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-2477462402380731253</id><published>2008-01-07T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T13:35:59.229-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Time to heal'/><title type='text'>Jan 5th 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;“Starts With Goodbye” I was sitting on my doorstep,I hung up the phone and it fell out of my hand,But I knew I had to do it,And he wouldn’t understand,So hard to see myself without him,I felt a piece of my heart break,But when you’re standing at a crossroad,There’s a choice you gotta make.[Chorus:]I guess it’s gonna have to hurt,I guess I’m gonna have to cry,And let go of some things I’ve loved,To get to the other side,I guess it’s gonna break me down,Like falling when you try to fly,It’s sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life,Starts with goodbye.I know there’s a blue horizon,Somewhere up ahead, just waiting for me,Getting there means leaving things behind,Sometimes life’s so bitter sweet.[Chorus:]I guess it’s gonna have to hurt,I guess I’m gonna have to cry,And let go of some things I’ve loved,To get to the other side,I guess it’s gonna break me down,Like falling when you try to fly,It’s sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life,Starts with goodbye.Time, time heals,The wounds that you feel,Somehow, right now.[Chorus:]I guess it’s gonna have to hurt,I guess I’m gonna have to cry,And let go of some things I’ve loved,To get to the other side,I guess it’s gonna break me down,Like falling when you try to fly,It’s sad, but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life,Starts with goodbye,I guess I’m gonna have to cry,And let go of some things I’ve loved,To get to the other side,Starts with goodbye,The only way you try to find,Moving on with the rest of your life,Starts with goodbye,So I guess this is my new theme song, as we just broke up. My heart is aching so badly right now, how to I get to the other side right NOW!!!I wish this didn’t have to be my truth today, but it is. I don’t know how to even imagine my life without him in it, he says he’s not leaving my life, but I don’t think I can just be his friend right now. UGH!!!! So frustrated.Goodnight.&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/8272747469530368374-2477462402380731253?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/2477462402380731253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=2477462402380731253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/2477462402380731253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/2477462402380731253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/01/jan-5th-2008.html' title='Jan 5th 2008'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272747469530368374.post-6998507145495424960</id><published>2008-01-07T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T14:39:25.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dec 30th 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;So here I am one week into the second year of my “wonderful” relationship, and why am I here? You know I had a conversation with him once where I told him that if I ever felt like he wasn’t giving 100% of what he was capable of giving then we might need to re-evaluate our relationship. I am at that cross roads today….. In the last 10 days he has either been ‘too busy”, “fallen asleep”, or “lost his phone” and has not called 5 of them, how am I supposed to feel about this?????? I can tell you how I DO feel… I feel snubbed, hurt, forgotten about, neglected, like a burdon, and like I’m sitting around wasting time. I mean hell one of those days was actually our anniversary and I couldn’t even get a phone call then, why am I still here? I used to think it was because I love him, and I do, but I know I cannot love him enough to make this work…. As much as I want this relationship, I also know I cannot sacrifice myself. So I have taken back as much of me as I can. I did what I know how to do best and have gotten my life back here in SD. I figure what better way to prepare myself for the inevitable. If he doesn’t want to make time for me in his life than why should I make time in mine? It may sound childish, but it is how I have to protect myself today.Thank God for the friends I have and that I knew not to ever lose contact with them over the course of this last year. I don’t feel like I’m asking too much, I mean really is a phone call once a day too much, if it is than I have to accept that I’m with the wrong person. The man I should be with should want to be with me when ever there is time for it, weather it be on the phone or in person, and not make excuses for why through out a 24 hour period I can’t even get a simple phone call, or hell even a text msg.So this is my mind this evening. Good to get it off my chest .&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/8272747469530368374-6998507145495424960?l=gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/feeds/6998507145495424960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272747469530368374&amp;postID=6998507145495424960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/6998507145495424960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272747469530368374/posts/default/6998507145495424960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gettinouttamyhead.blogspot.com/2008/01/dec-30th-2007.html' title='Dec 30th 2007'/><author><name>Karla's Head</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16636527831346357155</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Y-c0VXkhi64/R4KprUzoW9I/AAAAAAAAAAM/rC1W20S_vUc/S220/002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
