<?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-19853451</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:07:37.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Move Chief</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></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-19853451.post-114507985280443192</id><published>2006-04-14T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T22:44:12.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mouse</title><content type='html'>I wrote this over 5 years ago and haven't looked at it since.  I'm so glad I wrote this when I did and thought I would share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jan 25th 2000,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended Melissa's memorial service today.  It really shook me up because as I looked around the church I couldn't help but ponder on my own death.  Ridiculous questions such as "How many people would be at my funeral" were entering my mind.  I looked around the room and realized that it could have been anybody in the church that had been killed.  It all happened in a moment of time that is quicker than an every day giggle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa was my first crush in life.  She lit up a room so vibrantly and seductively.  She was the girl next door; beautiful, sexy, smart, funny, loving and most of all passionate about everything in her life.  I will miss her even though we she hasn't been an important person in my life for the past 2 years.  She will always be an important part of my past though.  I know I will never be able to put my finger on it, but she has influenced me in a way that will be constant in all my future endeavors.  Good-bye Mouse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-114507985280443192?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/114507985280443192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=114507985280443192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/114507985280443192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/114507985280443192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2006/04/mouse.html' title='Mouse'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-114507907781944807</id><published>2006-04-14T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T22:31:17.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Do List Update</title><content type='html'>I was reading my journal tonight and decided it would be good to review my "To Do List in 2006".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I said I would do in 2006:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Vistit Europe or South America - I went to Costa Rica in Central America for 10 days.  Close enough.&lt;br /&gt;2) Complete the Can-Fit Pro certification - I need to get signed up for this&lt;br /&gt;3) Buy 3 more student houses - I bought my own loft and am going to get 2 instead this year&lt;br /&gt;4) Move out of Falwyn - Like I said I bought a loft and take possession April 28th&lt;br /&gt;5) Be serious about someone - I've been working on this one quite a lot and think I'm actually ready for another serious relationship.  I know I won't be as selfish in my next relationship and will be able to put the other person first.&lt;br /&gt;6) Read 2 books per month - I've read one book in 4 months.  I've got to start working on this one.&lt;br /&gt;7) Continue to write in the blog - I took a 4 months off but damn it feels good to be back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Additions:&lt;br /&gt;1)  Learn an instrument - either the harmonica or guitar.  Not sure yet mabe both.&lt;br /&gt;2) Start taking French lessons again - I need to speak with my boss to get them to pay for the classes then practise with Martin in Montreal.&lt;br /&gt;3) Make 2006 the best year of your life!  So far so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-114507907781944807?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/114507907781944807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=114507907781944807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/114507907781944807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/114507907781944807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2006/04/to-do-list-update.html' title='To Do List Update'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-114473062169491075</id><published>2006-04-10T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T21:43:42.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Raccoons</title><content type='html'>I was at work today and could hear a commotion going on outside my office.  I went out to take a look and to my surprise there were 4 employees staring at a skid full of product.  I asked what was going on and everyone told me there was a raccoon trapped in the skid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a knife and cut the shrink wrap off the skid.  Another guy and me pushed over a box with a shovel so that the raccoon could run away.  We realized right away that it wouldn't be going anywhere.  It was a mother that had just had a litter of 8 babies.  They couldn't have been more than a day old and were born inside a trailer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the girls there called the President's assistant and asked her to call a trapper.  Her response was "It's going to cost $400 so just leave them".  Let me back up here for just a second.  I work for a 12 Billion Dollar organization that was voted "America's Most Admired Company" in 1992.  I couldn't believe my ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went down to see the assistant and she said the same thing to me.  I convinced her we had to do the right thing here and help them so we both went looking for approval.  Apparently she wasn't in the position to make a call like that herself.  It wasn't "Her job."  So we went to finance who passed us along to logistics, who passed us along to maintenance who couldn't help us.  Everyone was very clear that it wasn't "Their Job". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been a critic of corporations and the very concept of limited liability.  They are faceless, emotionless, non-humans that under the law pocess virtually all the same rights as a person does.  Today I realized that a corporation is only as good as the sum of it's parts.  It's people.  People are what make these corporations faceless, greedy and most of all INDIFFERENT.  Not the logo or the commercials, the people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This indifference is what angered me the most today.  I would have had more respect for someone who said "You know, it's only a raccoon, I don't like raccoons and I'd rather them be terminated" than "It's Not my job".  That indifference sickened me.  That oulook on life that says "How is this going to affect me?"  The total indifference to anything outside your own hierarchy of needs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another girl and I stayed later today and payed a trapper ourselves.  He came and took the raccoons and is going to let them loose in a forest nearby.  It felt good to do the right thing.  I wish my company could have stepped up to the plate.  But I'm not blaming a corporation today....I'm blaming it's people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-114473062169491075?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/114473062169491075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=114473062169491075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/114473062169491075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/114473062169491075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2006/04/raccoons.html' title='The Raccoons'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-113536533936290236</id><published>2005-12-23T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T11:15:39.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A True Process</title><content type='html'>I'm writing this entry for me.  I have never spoken or written about this topic, but it is something I should have done months ago.  I need to clear my head.  It's about where I am in life, specifically in the "relationship" department. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best female friend for the past 9 years was Erica.  We met at University in the same program and shared the same residence.  My group of guy friends and her group of girlfriends were very close throughout University and beyond.  We hung out, partied, and celebrated every event together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it began to change about 3 years ago.  I started to develop feelings for her beyond friendship when one of my friends started to like her.  I didn't understand it at the time, but I now know I was jealous whenever they hung out.  Is that how a friend is supposed to act?  No.  So I had to tell her.  I did, and she felt the same way about me.  We were inseparable for 2 years after that.  We did everything together, vacation, celebrate, vent and practically lived at each others places.  But things weren't always great, we were just so intense about everything.  Sex, arguments, everything.  Everything we did was with passion, but it wasn't sustainable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we got caught up in the cycle of the everyday tiff and our relationship became toxic.  She went into a major depression about work, friends and me.  We were bringing the worst in each other and it had to stop.  We broke up, and we stayed close.  We still talked, hung out and supported each other when we could.  We were actually real friends again, something that is very tough to do with ex's.  But her depression continued even without me in the picture.  She needed a change in her life and got it.  Her old boss at Indigo was an Aussie and Erica is an Australian Citizen.  She offered her a job in Melbourne and she took it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy for her because I knew it would be a fresh start for her.  But the selfish side of me wanted to say "Don't go.  Don't leave me."  I never did.  Instead, I would bolster her spirits of how many new friends she would make when she got there, how many new adventures she'd go on, and how she could always come back home if she wanted to.  I would do this when she'd call me crying and saying "I don't want to go, I'm scared."  In late June, she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like I was breaking up with her all over again.  But instead of a girlfriend I felt like I was losing the closest person in my life.  I struggled with this all summer long.  I kept myself busy but it was always, always in the back of my head.  Whatever I did I couldn't escape it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at this point that I got some advice from a very dear friend who had gone through a similar situation.  She said, "Ian, just go with what you're feeling, it's a true process and you can't speed it up."  I thanked her but really didn't take it to heart at the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to think that if I got back out there and met some new girls I could shake this feeling. Dinner after dinner, drink after drink, I would sit there and make relatively good conversation, be as charming as I could, and throw in the odd joke.  But the whole time I would be thinking in the back of my head "This girl has nothing on Erica".  I would do the one or two date thing and then end it because "I felt we just didn't have the chemistry".  The truth is the girls were great, attractive, fun, intelligent.  It was me who wasn't ready, I couldn't speed up the process.  My friend was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until the fall that I was able to have a clear head about things.  Not because I met someone new, because I was ready to move to the next step in the process.  I started to date again but this time it was different.  I wasn't ending it with girls because of Erica, I was ending it because I really didn't feel they were right for me.  The next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then recently I met a girl, the girl who introduced me to the world of blogging, and I surprised myself.  For the first time in a long time I was completely and utterly free of that feeling in the back of my head and I was only interested in her.  Her interests, her hobbies, her passions, everything.  For the first time in a long time I had butterflies in my stomach, and was tongue tied.  It felt great.  Whether something happens between us or not is way too early to tell.  I'm so glad to have met her though, she will probably never truly understand that, but I certainly do.  I have completed the process.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-113536533936290236?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/113536533936290236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=113536533936290236' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113536533936290236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113536533936290236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2005/12/true-process.html' title='A True Process'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-113522590673466726</id><published>2005-12-21T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T20:31:46.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dad</title><content type='html'>I went back home a few days ago on my day off to visit with my parents.  To my surprise, when I walked in the door my dad was lying on the ground doing sit ups with his shirt off.  I know this sounds wierd but he didn't even know I was on my way home!  I was really happy to see the changes in him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me back this up a bit.  My Dad used to be a very fit and confident man.  My Gran always said the girls went crazy for him before he married my mom.  Then one day about 15 years ago it started to change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opened his own Physio business that completely failed.  Not as a result of my dad's professional abilities but rather due to his lack of fundamental business skills.  He didn't know how to balance the books, only how to heal his patients.  Unfortunately when you run your own business that isn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The business went under and he had substantial financial losses.  He then fell into the vicious cycle of depression and alcohol, and lost his way for many years.  He was still a nice guy, had a good job and tried to be there whenever he could, but he wasn't the same man.  Thank-God my mom was there to get us all through that turbulent time.  It must have been very tough for her and I don't think I ever gave her the credit that she deserves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 years ago my Dad's lifestyle finally caught up with him.  He suffered a major heart attack and spent 4 weeks in intensive care.  During his stay in the hospital he promised to change his ways.  Things were going very well for a while and my Dad was getting back on track and then he fell and shattered his leg.  He was in a cast for 4 months and was in pain for months after that still.  The depression and drinking returned,  my Dad was spiralling again.  This time though, we all knew it would be fatal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister and I have talked about all the different ways we can help.  We tried confronting him, aksing him, telling him, everything imaginable.  We finally then came to the "you can only lead a horse to water" conclusion and that's where I thought it would stay.  6 months ago I would have said my Dad would not live 3 more years if things didn't change.  Thank-God they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how I got through to him but one day on the phone I just said to him flat out.  "If you don't change, you won't see me anymore.  I can't see you do this to yourself.  It's just too painful to see."  This time he knew I was serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 days later he visited the Dr. Bernstein weightloss clinic and began the journey of taking back his life.  He was 280lbs in August and he is now 228lbs in December.  He looks good, feels great and has a completely new outlook on life.  He's excited about things again, he bought a treadmill, and he has a renewed interest in his passions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He even calls me now.  I don't think I had ever got a call from my Dad the entire time I was at University.  Now he wants to talk once a week.  It's great.  I'm so proud of him.  He talks about how he felt before he got control back and he says he just didn't know where to begin.  I now know that beginning means today, not tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could imagine my surprise to see my dad on the floor doing situps.  Then he asked me how to get rid of his "man boobs" for the beach (Oh yeah, he booked a Mexican vacation with my mom).  I showed him how to do pushups to strengthen his chest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad is the man I remember now from my adolescence.  Confident, funny and very intelligent.  I'm so glad he's back in my life.  He knows he'll never go back, and so do I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-113522590673466726?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/113522590673466726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=113522590673466726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113522590673466726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113522590673466726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2005/12/my-dad.html' title='My Dad'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-113497064480260050</id><published>2005-12-18T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T21:37:24.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some of the top tens in my life...</title><content type='html'>I got a speeding ticket tonight and was thinking about how much I hate getting pulled over.  I've always been the kind of person who ranks things in their mind and was thinking of whether it would make the top ten or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top ten moments of awkwardness:&lt;br /&gt;10) Calling someone by the wrong name&lt;br /&gt;9) Saying "Nice to meet you" when you've met them 5 times&lt;br /&gt;8) High fiving a person but totally messing it up and just rubbing hands&lt;br /&gt;7) Telling a story and spitting in another persons direction simultaneously&lt;br /&gt;6) Saying "You too" to any closing remark such as "Drive Safely", "I'll call you tomorrow" or "Say Hi to your parents for me."&lt;br /&gt;5) Leaning up against the sink when washing your hands and getting a crotch full of water&lt;br /&gt;4) Calling someone and forgetting who you just dialed, then you hear "Hello?"&lt;br /&gt;3) Leaving a really really lame message on someones answering machine&lt;br /&gt;2) Seeing your friend and his girlfriend/boyfriend fighting in public&lt;br /&gt;1) Going in for the kiss and landing it somewhere on the cheek/neck-ouch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top ten pet peeves:&lt;br /&gt;10) Backseat drivers&lt;br /&gt;9) People who sip their coffee and then say "Ahhhh" after each sip&lt;br /&gt;8) Doing Laundry - I'll do dishes any day&lt;br /&gt;7) Parallel parking - I suck at it in a minivan&lt;br /&gt;6) When people lick their fingers after eating something&lt;br /&gt;5) Tim Hortons coffee lids that don't snap down and close properly&lt;br /&gt;4) People who scream on their cellphone&lt;br /&gt;3) Rubberneckers on the highway&lt;br /&gt;2) Getting take out and not realizing you have the wrong order until you get home&lt;br /&gt;1) Lumps of fabric in my socks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top ten things that make me smile:&lt;br /&gt;10) Beer on ice&lt;br /&gt;9) Practical jokes&lt;br /&gt;8) Fresh bed sheets&lt;br /&gt;7) Waking up and realizing I don't have to get up yet&lt;br /&gt;6) Getting into a warm car when it's freezing out&lt;br /&gt;5) Sleeping&lt;br /&gt;4) Using a brand new blade to shave with&lt;br /&gt;3) A really good work out&lt;br /&gt;2) A roaring campfire&lt;br /&gt;1) Good food and good conversation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are a few of my top tens.  I guess getting pulled over didn't make the list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-113497064480260050?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/113497064480260050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=113497064480260050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113497064480260050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113497064480260050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2005/12/some-of-top-tens-in-my-life.html' title='Some of the top tens in my life...'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-113489019172553725</id><published>2005-12-17T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T23:58:08.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes or something like that.</title><content type='html'>Time.... Is it speeding up or is it just me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think it's just me however. The more people I talk to in their mid twenties the more I come to realize that I'm not the only one. It is speeding up, it is going by faster, and there's no stopping it.... Or is there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little I loved the summertime. I would play outside all day with friends, my dogs, i'd swim and ride my bike all over town. Back then the summer wasn't just a break from school. It wasn't just another season. It was a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's 4 long weekends and 2 months of the year. Not the long months like January or November. But the really quick ones that go by so fast that you find yourself saying over and over " I can't believe it's September next week" and then finally "What happened to the summer?" In a flash it's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when did this change? Wasn't the summer of '88 the same length of time as the summer of '05? Was there some type of rotational shift that never got covered on the news? Is global warming a joke? What changed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did. My views of the world changed. My place in the world changed. My world changed. A change that is forever and without return. I now have responsibilities, deadlines, and scheduled vacations. There's no "Next year I'm in 7th grade" or " I can't wait until University". There's tomorrow. Then the day after that. And if you're lucky after some time of the day to day in the working world you'll stop and ask yourself "Now what?". And if you're really lucky you'll answer "Whatever I want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there is something that can be done. Enjoying life. Geting out there, learning, have a passion for something, helping somebody out, loving, taking risks, trying new things, lauging at yourself, forgiving yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to dwell on how fast time was flying by. Now I'm excited. I can't wait to see what's next, where it will happen and with whom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing we must decide on is what to do with the time that is given to us. I'm going to enjoy mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-113489019172553725?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/113489019172553725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=113489019172553725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113489019172553725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113489019172553725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2005/12/brief-history-of-time-from-big-bang-to.html' title='A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes or something like that.'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19853451.post-113453660041247332</id><published>2005-12-13T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T21:03:20.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alright.  Here we go.</title><content type='html'>Just came across this concept from a very interesting girl that I met.  She is a very motivated person and it has already rubbed off on me.  I'm looking forward to getting to know her better.  This is something I could enjoy very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19853451-113453660041247332?l=yourmovechief.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/feeds/113453660041247332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19853451&amp;postID=113453660041247332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113453660041247332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19853451/posts/default/113453660041247332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yourmovechief.blogspot.com/2005/12/alright-here-we-go.html' title='Alright.  Here we go.'/><author><name>Ian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07070575297157079671</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
