<?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-2294122359715345465</id><updated>2011-07-30T15:44:30.415-06:00</updated><title type='text'>post-epiphany</title><subtitle type='html'>there's a point at which I realized that I can and must do more.  post-epiphany is a result, a reflection and a record my life of doing more... post-epiphany.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.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-2294122359715345465.post-743497814053160754</id><published>2009-01-29T09:20:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T09:34:29.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Love Kim</title><content type='html'>The thing that you don't know about me is that I am actually a hopeless, sappy, chick-flick crying romantic.  I love my wife.  The ensuing lack of biting wit is brought on by a bout of moist eyed reflection.  How wonderful is it in this life to have someone  by your side?  I have someone who is walking with me, in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lockstep&lt;/span&gt; through every joy, heartache, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;success&lt;/span&gt; and burnt dinner; a partner, a friend, the other part of me.  I'm not sure how to describe the feeling of being in it together, all of it.  I know I can't describe the kind of patience Kim possesses to be that person for me.  Of course, I know she says that it takes patience to return the gesture, but I know you agree with me.  I love her.  I can't wait for the next milestone, I can't wait to pick her up from work!  I can't wait to send her a message to say I actually wrote in my blog; and to say "I love you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-743497814053160754?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/743497814053160754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=743497814053160754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/743497814053160754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/743497814053160754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-i-love-kim.html' title='How I Love Kim'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-636254347335884914</id><published>2008-11-06T15:32:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T10:59:29.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Entertainment On Demand! (when Kim says write)</title><content type='html'>It has now been nearly three weeks since beginning my employment at the Utah Transit Authority. I'm still here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I write when I don't know what to write?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-636254347335884914?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/636254347335884914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=636254347335884914' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/636254347335884914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/636254347335884914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/11/entertainment-on-demand-when-kim-says.html' title='Entertainment On Demand! (when Kim says write)'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-6428967117853102834</id><published>2008-10-16T14:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T15:07:21.647-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Arrived - The Warm Glow of Legitimacy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well folks, I'm for real.  Yes, after years of waitin, I can now speak with authority on a subject with which I'm sure you're supremely fascinated... Transit Plannin.  Wow, as I typed that I heard the gasps and the uncontrolled shouts of joy.  Thank you, thank you.  I'm livin' the dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't it amazing how much one can write without saying anythin'?  I have found that the amount of meaningless jabber people can withstand increases substantially as terminal g's are removed in every instance seemin'ly possible.  Now don't let this new found truth sway you to think that I am finally jumpin on the Palin bandwagin, I know it might seem that way, but believe me, I can really see Sandy from my house.  And as much as Sandy is in the habit of &lt;a href="http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_10728107"&gt;considerin its neighbors&lt;/a&gt;, it might as well be a foreign country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, back to me.  I have been officially hired as a Strategic Planner II at UTA.  Here is the proof!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SPesvJ2prEI/AAAAAAAAABQ/M-viNwgb_qQ/s1600-h/Badge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SPesvJ2prEI/AAAAAAAAABQ/M-viNwgb_qQ/s320/Badge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257861016077315138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I have a real job.  I'm actually serious, I am really happy.  Although I truly value all of the experience I have had here at Murray in my less than legitimate position, I really look forward to something new.  Now I know that you're all going to be asking me to rearrange the bus routes for you, or make the TRAX wait just one more minute for you or your bus to get there, and I can help.  Bring me your tired your poor, wait, nevermind, just bring me your issues about public transportation. Hopefully in a short time you will all be able to read my comments in a newspaper article about a new TRAX station and a new transit line coming to Murray, I can see the headline now, take from it what you will... Murray Makes Inroads with Rail&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-6428967117853102834?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/6428967117853102834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=6428967117853102834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6428967117853102834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6428967117853102834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/10/ive-arrived-warm-glow-of-legitimacy.html' title='I&apos;ve Arrived - The Warm Glow of Legitimacy'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SPesvJ2prEI/AAAAAAAAABQ/M-viNwgb_qQ/s72-c/Badge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-6289362400967181672</id><published>2008-09-11T17:07:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T16:02:33.113-06:00</updated><title type='text'>in bloom</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On Monday night, Kim (my wife, she has a name now) and I participated in a hallmark of Mormonism, Family Home Evening; or for you more up-to-date types, FHE (pronounced ehfey-chee).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What happens when you a bunch of 20 something young urban Mormons (&lt;a href="http://www.saltlakemagazine.com/Salt-Lake-Magazine/July-2008/Meet-the-Yummies-The-Young-Urban-Mormons/"&gt;yummies&lt;/a&gt;) together?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You break out into singing Nirvana, of course!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now to those of you initiated in the ritual of FHE, Nirvana’s “In Bloom” might seem a far cry from the typical musical fare one would expect at such a gathering.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;BUT NO!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We are forging into new territory here!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The &lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;st1:placename&gt;Oregon&lt;/st1:placename&gt; &lt;st1:placetype&gt;Territory&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Seriously, the &lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Oregon&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt; territory, I’m not kidding.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The two funniest episodes of the night were spontaneously singing Nirvana and reminiscing about playing &lt;st1:place&gt;Oregon Trail&lt;/st1:place&gt; in our high tech elementary school computer labs.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Apparently we all enjoyed hunting on the trail. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;One of my friends could have SERIOUS potential for child neglect based on the amount of hunting he did in the game, in spite of Jimmy’s dysentery (and eventual death).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Talk about building faith…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Also in bloom is our incredible rose bush.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Rose bush you say?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Don’t you live in a 500 square foot rabbit hutch?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you indeed thought this, you are correct.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But what you don’t know is that outside of our door stands the only rose bush in all of Lost Creek Rabbit Hutches!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  It is a &lt;/span&gt;beautiful but neglected peace rose.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We have tended to it, removed the jumble of dead and overgrown branches, removed the stifling decorative metal edging from its base and offered plenty of fresh cool water.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As a result, we have BEATIFUL roses.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But wait, you haven’t heard the good part.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the spring I noticed that the rather shrubby looking bush outside our door was indeed a rose (when I saw a rose bud, it was pretty obvious, I know).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It began to bloom and I thought to myself that I should get some small pruning shears from my parents and help it out.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well before I even had the chance, I found out why it was such a weird looking rose bush.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The grounds crew walks by and cuts it with A HEDGE TRIMMER;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; l&lt;/span&gt;ike it's some kind of sculpted shrubbery or something.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I came home and saw our lovely blooms dashed across the ground and the rough torn teeth marks of a hedge trimmer on its branches I yelled so loud that the kids next door came running out to see who I’d murdered!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This happened once more after it was again blooming, but Kim managed to run out and scare off the unsuspecting maintenance worker with a barrage of spanglish.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I immediately went to the manager’s office and spoke my mind.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Which for me went pretty much like this; “uh, I have a complaint.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The grounds crew keeps going all Edward Scissor Hands on our rose bush and if it happens again… well you remember what happened to Edward’s dear creator right?”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This quote might not represent what actually was said, but I’m sure you can imagine, right?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fast forward to yesterday, now that I have done all I can in the growing season to help this poor misshapen bush; Mr. Trimmer Hands come along again!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Oh no I said, over my dead trimmer impaled body will this happen again!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So there I sat, listening to the sound of the hedge trimmer make its way around the complex.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When the urge to use the bathroom overcame me, I didn’t even close the door.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was a man on a mission.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Finally the sound of doom approached and I ran outside in my most intimidating attire (pajamas) with my most brutal weapon (kitchen shears) and proceeded to defend my prize.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As he approached I wielded my shears like a ninja assassin and in no uncertain terms told him “NO CUT!”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Stunned at my surprise attack, Mr. Trimmer Hands trembled in amazement and fear before cowering away before my mind blowing shear wielding prowess.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had won the day!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can fantasize right?  Actually I just walked out there and stood, pretending to prune on the rose and kindly said, while pointing at the bush, “No cut.”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To which the grounds crewman replied, “Ok, ok, thank you.”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But probably thought, “wow what a bunch of crazy gringos, first the woman runs out and starts babbling all crazy like and then this pajama clad wacko comes after me with scissors.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t get paid enough for this.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-6289362400967181672?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/6289362400967181672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=6289362400967181672' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6289362400967181672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6289362400967181672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-monday-night-kim-my-wife-she-has.html' title='in bloom'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-6163238285426811378</id><published>2008-08-29T17:51:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T18:13:13.605-06:00</updated><title type='text'>off the wagon, on the wagon</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so… ridiculously apparent. But here I am back in the saddle again. Let me tell you, sleeping through a morning really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t produce positive results. Possible side effects include, drowsiness, regret, disorientation, difficulty operating machinery or motor vehicles, and oh yes, that ever-present loathing. So take my word for it. Get out of bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as the wagon goes, have you ever filled your own with gas and then taken the time to read the receipt. Yesterday, in the spirit of doing more, I did. Posted below is my receipt. Now I don’t show you this to brag, or to show off the fact that my car has a bottomless 25 gallon fuel tank, but just to illustrate what I see as a very dangerous invitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240095017655535778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiOp8SnCKI/AAAAAAAAABA/W2w-ZNm08lk/s320/gas+receipt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I understand correctly that Chevron would like me to log on to their web site to tell them about my “shopping” experience? Well you know, it was a great experience. At first I was really leaning towards the premium, but I think it made my butt look big, so I gave the regular a try. Maybe I’m just not a regular guy, but it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t working, the salesman agreed. So I thought to myself, maybe I’ll go with the plus, yeah that its. “Oh, I love it! It really brings out your eyes,” says the salesman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want to know about my shopping experience. I’ll tell you, it was incredible! I filled my car with the only physical product that I buy, that I never actually get to see. I just have faith that the stuff I’m squirting into that black hole in the back of my car will actually make it go. They could be giving me gasoline scented Glade air freshener oil for all I know. But the best thing was just watching the price spiral upwards to $100. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now I get to go home and say to my wife “look what I just spent a hundred bucks on! Oh wait, you can’t really see it, but see my car out there, its in there I promise, just where I put it the last hundred !” It is the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-fulfilling purchase I could possibly make. I just pumped money into the pocket of some windbag oil magnate or middle eastern dictator and now I get to drive around dumping toxic gasses and pounds of carbon into the air that I live in! It’s like peeing in your own bath water. Incredible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least they said thank you…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-6163238285426811378?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/6163238285426811378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=6163238285426811378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6163238285426811378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6163238285426811378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/08/off-wagon-on-wagon.html' title='off the wagon, on the wagon'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiOp8SnCKI/AAAAAAAAABA/W2w-ZNm08lk/s72-c/gas+receipt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-6884601326968046931</id><published>2008-08-27T15:17:00.012-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T10:56:59.942-06:00</updated><title type='text'>day 2 - or the clear lense of futility</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;You've probably moved beyond being interested in what time I wake up, but in case you haven't, let me assure you I've been awake since the 7:00 hour today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever fall into the trap of feeling that no matter what you do, your efforts are completely ineffective in reaching the desired end. Well, I might have just gotten my foot stuck. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; not saying that no matter what you do, the situation won't change, but maybe you (meaning I) am just not doing the right things. Something like pushing on the pull door. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239320906242746034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLXOmujgZrI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JIfVQlz343A/s320/Far%2520Side--gifted%2520school%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned a lesson, when a number of people offer you a job, listen... Don't a&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLXOJyHdKkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2k41DXSqAPc/s1600-h/Far%2520Side--gifted%2520school%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ssume that opportunities just hang around waiting to be called back. If its not already obvious, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; looking for a job. At this point you have two options, well maybe three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Hire me&lt;br /&gt;2. Decide you don't want to listen to my whining and stop reading&lt;br /&gt;3. Think to yourself that there might be something funny in the rest of this post and keep reading just because you are a hopeful and believing kind of person, in which case you wouldn't be disappointed if there wasn't something funny in the rest of this post at all, speaking of the rest of the post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;I've&lt;/span&gt; been working at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Murray&lt;/span&gt; City for over four years. In my reckoning that is forever, or at least a whole lot longer than your typical "seasonal" employee. During this time I turned down a number of job offers, instead choosing to remain at my post and dutifully do whatever it is that I do. Lucky for me, the new full time planning job at the city that had represented my holy grail instead turned into a illicit nightmare in castle anthrax. Wow, that is not a good comparison at all, but it seemed clever at the time. What really happened it that the new department head who didn't know me from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Adam&lt;/span&gt; gave the job to a former cast member of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Reno&lt;/span&gt; 911. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, also not what really happened. but he is from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Reno&lt;/span&gt;, so you never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result. I will continue my stint in the role of semi stay at home husband in training and bask in the resplendent glow of career limbo. Not a bad gig, but it would eventually be nice to move to a position that isn't titled "Office Specialist 1" whatever that is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-6884601326968046931?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/6884601326968046931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=6884601326968046931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6884601326968046931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/6884601326968046931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-2-or-clear-lense-of-futility.html' title='day 2 - or the clear lense of futility'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLXOmujgZrI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JIfVQlz343A/s72-c/Far%2520Side--gifted%2520school%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-5646557016093474271</id><published>2008-08-26T09:55:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T10:53:55.892-06:00</updated><title type='text'>day 1 - robin like a bird</title><content type='html'>Its not quite 1:00. In fact its not even close. I have already been awake nearly as long as I had when I wrote yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is beautiful in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever step outside to see, not just a casual glance on the way to the car, but on purpose? This goes on my list of doing more. Take in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps everyone who blogs must assess their own personal narcissistic tendencies, but I feel especially vulnerable. I hope to avoid indulgent self adulation or pity and given the nature of my writing, this will have to be a constant effort. So today, in line with that goal, I must give credit where it is due and acknowledge the inspiration behind this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robin like a bird&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not a bird, a     . I haven't seen Robin for years. I have to admit that I harbored quite an insistent fondness for her in high school that nonetheless amounted to not much more than annoying teenage flirting, emphasis on annoying. Fast forward to last saturday... I went to a concert in the park with my wife and some friends, a showcase of dance. To say that Robin is a dancer is a huge understatement. This was no new revelation to me, but I really had no idea... We were all incredibly impressed with her choreographed works and her performance. My wife commented to me that she could watch just her for an entire concert and one of our friends said that the first of Robin's choreographed pieces was one of the most creative she'd ever seen. I read Robin's bio in the program and was thoroughly impressed with her accomplishments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to write her a message through facebook to tell her how impressed we all were. When I went to her facebook profile yesterday, there was a link to her &lt;a href="http://www.robinmclelland.com/"&gt;web page&lt;/a&gt;. Being curious I headed in that direction. I browsed around the site and after reading her resume, I was blown away with how involved she is in dance. She has received scholarships, awards, teaching positions, taught lecture upon lecture, established a performing company, staged a concert in San Fransisco and is working on one in New York City. As I read I thought to myself, "self, what are you doing?" here is someone that has taken every opportunity to pursue their dreams and has succeeded in dramatic fashion. It is Robin's devoted success that tipped me over the edge into this new place where I must do more and everything is possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Robin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-5646557016093474271?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/5646557016093474271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=5646557016093474271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/5646557016093474271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/5646557016093474271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-1-robin-like-bird.html' title='day 1 - robin like a bird'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2294122359715345465.post-1942017118040640496</id><published>2008-08-25T16:59:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T10:50:11.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>it is today</title><content type='html'>Finally got out of bed at 1:10 pm, conviently 10 minutes after I should have been at work. Does it sound familiar, cliche, it is; but not for me. There are only so many times that your brain can tolerate mediocrity before developing an excruciating sense of self loathing. I seem to have hit my limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is epiphany day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From now on every day is post-epiphany. The internal conflict between performance and potential has thrown me forward into a sense of obligation. The obligation to do more, to maximize the potential of being human; to be me. Come along, let's see what happens...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2294122359715345465-1942017118040640496?l=post-epiphany.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/feeds/1942017118040640496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2294122359715345465&amp;postID=1942017118040640496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/1942017118040640496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2294122359715345465/posts/default/1942017118040640496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://post-epiphany.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-is-today.html' title='it is today'/><author><name>Josh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05754662814471142591</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z9do-a4_pu4/SLiDiptr7GI/AAAAAAAAAAo/fogokGbLqME/S220/DSC_8362-2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
