tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54850101959878090192024-03-13T08:08:26.873-07:00Marching to a different drummerThe ramblings of a loving girl, living on the wrong world...Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-47369762039986987302013-11-11T15:29:00.000-08:002013-11-11T15:29:35.085-08:00Missions and Musings It has been almost two months since I've written here. To be frank, I have entirely forgotten about this thing. I need to learn and remember to take this off the shelf, dust it, off, pick up the pen and see what comes out. I often surprise myself with how advanced my writing has become, being only fifteen. My mind has been overwhelmed with school work, human interactions, and production of a better me. I can say that the only thing of the three I mentioned that has improved was human interactions, but not by a long run.<br />
I say that I've been focusing on school work, when in reality I've been focused on doodling on the margins of my school work. Each piece of homework is not met head on with a new idea of a picture of a starfish playing the flute, a ballerina on her toes, or a smile shared between friends. I am imaginative, creative, and easily bored if I become used to something. I need change to stimulate me, if not, I will fall behind because I feel that I've already met the challenge, and there is no point in continuing to do something that I've already done. That is a reason why I am not doing <i>bad </i>in school, but I am not up to the standard I once was. Repetition annoys me, and I will not get anything done under the circumstances.<br />
Last year, I told myself and others that I was a sponge that no one could squeeze out. The same is still partially true, yet you can get some small, minuscule drops of water out of me. I will absorb anything that is thrown at me, from ideas to formulas, which is why I test so well. I suppose this is the way that my human interactions have improved, slightly. I've begun to let more of myself show, and it scares the living daylights out of me. But it's for a mission.<br />
In March, I committed myself to Project Senegal. This is a project that has stemmed off of the nonprofit that was founded in part by trip to Russia in 2011. When we got back, my mother and I started a non profit, and called it Spark540. People who live in and around Salem might have heard of it. It's a leadership organization for high school students, focused around the United Nation's Eight Millennium Development Goals, and for the 2013/2014 year, we have decided to focus on the second goal. Education for all. A group of six teenagers of different interests and talents will be flying to the Dakar region of Senegal on December 26th, 2013. Because of my interest and talent in linguistics, I will be in charge of teaching a begginers english class at two schools, La Fontaine school, and N'doukh Thiarokh school (no one can pronounce it, so we've dubbed it "the village school"), with students ages 12-13. The Fontaine school is a private school, in need of help and reparation, as well as the Village School, but that one is public. Remember in 2011, when I was twelve, how quickly I picked up on the Russian Language? This is what I hope to do with Wolof (the native tongue of Senegal) and French. I have been studying french for four years, so this will be less of a daunting task for me.<br />
I am asking for your help. I need to reach o fundraising goal of approximately $3.400(U.S.D.) by Christmas. I know I can do it, because I raised $1,500 in sock puppets, and donations from you guys, and I am still offering my sincere thanks to all who contributed, both materially and spiritually. If you are looking to donate, please get in contact with me, and do not use the pay pal link on my blog, unless you want your money to go into the fund of providing Z with a safe "graduation" from the orphanage. Contact me at bridget.ayers@aol.com.<br />
Again, thank you all for reading this, and your time to help me succeed in what I want to do in my time on this kind earth.Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-10217118061089094182013-09-15T06:42:00.001-07:002013-09-15T06:42:49.309-07:00Made To Be Broken, Time Lapses, and A Promise. Last month, I started high school. It's a whole new world for people like me. I'm a VERY shy person, for the most part. When theres more than one person that I don't know around, I feel like breaking down into tears. This is more recent than anything else, but it's true. I suppose that I'm afraid of social interaction. It's not that I just don't like it, I'm actually <u>scared</u> of it.<br />
Coming from a 14 year old, that does sound a bit strange. If I know that there's a situation in which I am going to have to be social, I'll stay up extremely late in the night, worrying about what I'm going to say, how I'm going to say it, what if it doesn't sound right? I'll get extremely nervous about it, and end up stressing out a lot, and completely crashing after said event.<br />
This started to happen when I came back from Russia last June. I don't know what caused it, but I've become quieter and more introverted. I'd rather stay in and read a book than go anywhere. I suppose you could say that I've been broken. Something snapped. It's terrifying. Look at my first post, and then some of the more recent ones. January 2011, I was a bubbly, giggly child. Now what am I? A cynical teenager? No. That's not what I'm trying to be, I want to be happy and outgoing again, but that doesn't seem very realistic in the near future.<br />
Also, the song Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls, reminds me so much of my sister, who I haven't spoken to in over a year. The lyrics are as follows:<br />
"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">And I'd give up forever to touch you</span><br />
<span class="line line-s" id="line_2" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">'Cause I know that you feel me somehow</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_3" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_4" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And I don't want to go home right now</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_4" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_9" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And I don't want the world to see me</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_10" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">'Cause I don't think that they'd understand</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_11" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When everything's made to be broken</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_12" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_13" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_14" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Or the moment of truth in your lies</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_15" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When everything feels like the movies</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_16" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_17" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And I don't want the world to see me</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_18" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">'Cause I don't think that they'd understand</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When everything's made to be broken</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_20" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_21" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And I don't want the world to see me</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_22" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">'Cause I don't think that they'd understand</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_23" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When everything's made to be broken</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_24" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">And I don't want the world to see me</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_26" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">'Cause I don't think that they'd understand</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_27" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When everything's made to be broken</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_28" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_29" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_30" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want you to know who I am" </span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">You can listen to it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8UeeIAJ0a0&feature=related">here</a>.</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> It reminds me of her so much, and causes me to be incredibly sad. I remember her tears, her voice, the sweet scent of her short black hair, her big brown eyes. It takes everything in me not to obsess over the fact that she is not here yet. It's one of those things that's right there, but you have to try to ignore. I don't want to ignore her, but its for the best.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> Anyways, sorry I haven't been posting regularly, I'm going to try to work on that,</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">-Bridget.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> One year later:</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Hi, I'm Bridget, I'm 15, and a sophomore in High School. Things have gotten better, I talk to people, though still get nervous around big groups of people I don't know. I'm also still afraid to ask people for things, I'd rather just not get said thing done. I've continued to get "good" grades (mostly B's with a few A's) and am taking AP Environmental Science this year. My locker is orange, with magnets and a picture of my sister inside.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> It constantly kills me that she likely will never be my sister, she likely will never nee me again, and I the same. It kills me that the last memory I have of her is her looking behind her shoulder with tears in her eyes when I was leaving. Looking to make sure I was real, and maybe for the chance that I would just stay forever. I wish I could have stayed forever, but I had a life at home that I needed to tend to. I was 12, and couldn't just make the decision to stay. Legally, I could have stayed for three months, but I had school, two other members of my family, friends, and commitments that I couldn't just abandon to stay 6,000 miles away with no notice.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> I wish that Putin didn't close adoptions to the U.S., but there's nothing I can do about that. What am I supposed to do? March over to the Kremlin and yell at Putin? I'm a 15 year old girl, he'd laugh in my face. Plus, many other people are stuck in the same was we are. I am and will be eternally grateful that Z didn't know we had plans to adopt her. For the other children, who had hope of a home in America, and knew that they would come home, and to have that ripped away from them, is a thought I cannot even fathom. I am absolutely crushed by the fact that she's growing older and will likely never come home, I am guaranteed a home until I am at least 18, and likely after that. I will continue to get an education at least until the year 2016, and though I am a little chilly right now, I can just turn the heat on. She (and all the others) are in Siberia, one of the coldest places on earth. They're guaranteed education until they are 16, and "age out" (more like get kicked out), and have it SO much worse than I do.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> Anyways, the promise; It's not a promise to you. It's a promise to Z. Dear Z, know that I will never stop thinking about you, know that I care about you, and if Russia ever opens up adoptions, I will get right back to begging and nagging to get you home, but right now, everything is out of my control. I will love you forever, don't forget that.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_31" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">-Bridget</span></span>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-23364296726722284592012-05-15T16:27:00.001-07:002012-05-15T16:27:56.516-07:00Marking A YearOne week from today, May 22, marks one year since the plane took off from Logan International Airport headed eastward to London. From London, the plane went farther east to Moscow. We landed in Moscow on May 23, 2011 and stayed for 3 days. May 26 we left the capitol for Kemerovo. We landed in Kemerovo at 5 am on May 27.<br />
I still remember the drive to the <i>gasteenitsa </i>vividly. The long road leading out of the airport, twisting through the worn out streets of south-central Siberia. The streets were devoid of life, besides us, as it was only 5 in the morning. Halfway through it, I fell asleep, and woke up to the soft murmur of voices coming from around me. The front steps I had originally tried to go up were pink, and they were the wrong set of stairs. The next set were grey with a trash barrel next to them. You had to ring a doorbell to be let into the building. The grumpy key lady had to come open the door for you, amd stay there until we were done unloading the van of our 7 duffel bags, five backpacks and two suitcases. Our room was the last room on the left, and there were things sticking out of the walls with flower pots on top of them, some form of Russian art, I guess. I passed out on the one bed about 30 seconds after we arrived. I woke up at 2. I could have slept longer, but Anya had made an appearance with her friend Ira (EE-rah). We finally got to do some exploring of the city later that night. the amusment park down the street, the "mall", my favorite restaurant in the entire world, Chocoladnitsa, the River Tomb (Tom), and all the other wonders.<br />
Since I've returned home from the dismal place seldom on a map, the sadness has been overwhelming, knowing that there are people living in this place of coal dust and desperation. Knowing that it's been almost a year since I've seen my sister, and Anya and all of the others.<br />
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A year since I've seen my sister. Has she grown? Has the mop of hair on her head become longer? These are all things that I do not know. Imagine your sister, brother, cousin living over 6000 miles away, and you not seeing them for the first 8 years of their life, and seeing them twice a whole year ago. Then multiply it by 10 and then you STILL wont get what it feels like. I can post countless picturees of me, my friends, my family, from the past year, having fun, being sad, happy and everything in between. But what about her? Her friends, family? I can almost guarantee none of that has been documented.<br />
There's also the sense of guilt that comes with things, such as drinking water. Most Americans don't think about it when they turn the tap on and get a glass of water. I do. I took a sip of water from the orphanage, and then realized my mistake when I got home. Giardia. Parasites. Most of the kids at the DD have them, because there is NO clean drinking water. I'm still careful with water here, scared to drink it, almost. I can't drink it if it tastes a little off, for fear of a repeat. There's guilt in everything, opening a textbook at school, putting my glasses on my face, getting changed for gym, playing my clarinet, walking the hill-less route from school to my house, in the nice weather. Things that a normal kid wouldn't think twice about, I cherish. Most kids in 8th grade hate getting changed for gym, its a pain and pointless. While I hate it, I love it at the same time. I HAVE something to change into. Some kids don't.<br />
On another note: Since it's been a whole year since Russia, I'm going to get back into learning the language. I speak it well enough to get by, and not order 5 coffees (love you mum!) accidentally. But I'm nowhere near fluent. My sentences are somewhere along the lines of "I be listen music. Me like horse." instead of "I am listening to music. I like horses"<br />
And finally, I will leave you with a question: Who are the waiting ones? Us, the family she will belong to eventually, or her, a lost orphan girl?Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-51650352765733884622012-02-18T13:33:00.001-08:002012-02-26T16:11:32.173-08:00Safe and Sound<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/YFEDTtKaFzU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div> This song is one I recommend to anyone with a child waiting. No matter if it's your sibling, son, daughter, grandchild, niece or nephew. The lyrics mean so much. It's one of the only country songs I like, because of the words, and the haunting melody.<br />
It's like it is talking to the child that is being left alone. "Come morning light, you and I will be safe and sound"<br />
Now is the time of dark. Night, if you will. The awaiting what is to come. You cannot see in the dark. It's covering all of your vision. What is to come next? Certainly not predictable. Even if you know the course you are walking, if you have adopted before, how do you know exactly which way you are turned in?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.deviantart.com/download/36895717/Scared_Teddy_by_droool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.deviantart.com/download/36895717/Scared_Teddy_by_droool.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />
Most people think of the child who is being adopted, the waiting, anxiety of what is to come. It is true. Don't get me wrong. I didn't even think of the family who is bringing the child home, the parents, siblings, until recently. The family who is waiting, in the dark. We wait and wonder what is happening to our poor little baby. I live every moment scared of what might happen to her. Is she okay? Does she have enough to eat, to not be hungry? Is there anyone looking out for her if she gets hurt? I want the daylight to come, the sun to rise, to be able to leave this dark room, move on to one filled with sunlight and joy. To have the worry lifted, to have her safe and sound, in our arms.<br />
Though when she comes home, I know it will not all be light. <b>There will still be dark. </b>I've learned about these things. I am in no way fully prepared, or even part way prepared for the rages, the trauma, the incredible amount of attention she will need. I get it. It will be hard. I need to prepare, and I might not ever get to that point. I promise to love her unconditionally, as I already do. There will still be shadows of her past lurking, making it dark at times. It will make it dark at many, many, MANY times. In no way, shape or form am I going to be 100% braced for this. It's a bumpy ride.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Another perspective, from a new view, from an adoptive parent (my mother dearest): www.beingyes.blogspot.comBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-41993116806170752482012-01-17T14:13:00.000-08:002012-01-17T14:13:26.289-08:00The Cracks in Our Foundation Kate Nash song, Foundations. I recommend it to anyone who likes either:<br />
a. British Accents<br />
b. Indie pop (I have no idea what genre she sings, but this is what both ask.com and google told me)<br />
c. Sassy love songs<br />
<br />
Anyway! About Z. There's HUGE, monumental even, cracks in her foundation. Our [educated] guess is that she has been at the orphanage since she was 6 years old. Z is 8 now. At the orphanage for 2 years. How old is her brother Vanya? Two years old. She was put there soon after her brother was born. Imagine that, you're 6 years old, love your parents, and are looking forward to your new brother coming. When he is born, you are over joyed. But then, your parents put you in an orphanage. When asked about your brother, you STILL say that you love him. This might not be the whole story, but is what we got out of her. If your brother was one of the causes for you to be put in an orphanage, would you still love him? I know I would dislike my brother even more than I do now. When asked "Do you love him", Z responded: "Yes, very much"<br />
She's such a strong girl. So much hurt packed inside her little body and mind. I simply cannot express how much she needs a home. We have not even STARTED the adoption process. We have completely committed to her, but money locks us up, and is screaming in our face "I'M GONNA STOP YOU IN ANY WAY POSSIBLE!" As the Fab Four said, "Money can't buy me love" It's true. You cannot "buy" love. We've fallen in love, and that part was free. Getting the love home costs twenty thousand dollars. Fair? No. Real? Yes. Please help us bring her home...I love her, our entire family loves her, and wants nothing more than to have her here. The moment when I can say, "Welcome home, baby girl" I'll know this has all paid off. I hate asking for money. I really do. I'm not good at it either. So far, we've raised approximately $1,900. That's about 1/10 of what we need in total. Please help!<br />
Here are the APPROXIMATE costs of each part of the adoption, as far as I know right now.<br />
<br />
<ul><li>$2,000 to secure the attorney </li>
<li>$2,000 for the home study</li>
<li>$1,000 for the post-placement reports (must be paid WITH the home study)</li>
<li>$11,000 in 3 payments over the course of the process ($3,670 x 3) to attorney for various tasks</li>
<li>$3,000 First visit airfare & vital expense for one parent</li>
<li>$6,000 Second visit/courtdate "Gotcha Day" for both parents</li>
<li>$1,200 One way airfare for a special girl to come HOME</li>
</ul><br />
We are trying to take this one step at a time. Right now we are working on raising enough for the first 3 items ($5,000)<br />
A large thank you goes out to all people who have given donations. From $3.16 to $350, all are appreciated.Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-62099324747657617142012-01-08T18:12:00.000-08:002012-01-08T18:12:16.269-08:00RamblingThis Thursday at the orphanage where so many live,<br />
Good fortune took hold, with so much to give.<br />
Bringing turkey and cakes and pies to fill<br />
Hungry tummies of orphans, all at a will.<br />
"Yummy Yum Yum!"<br />
"No more chum!"<br />
"Real food today! Hooray! Hooray!"<br />
<br />
It's true! On Thursday (2 am our time), at Detsky Dom number 5, they celebrated Russian Christmas (Jan. 7) with a feast provided by caring people world-wide. Such a treat for them! As I said on my last post, their food is, well, a LOT less than fabulous...so getting a celebration that huge, I can't even describe how grateful they must be!<br />
<br />
On another note, I recently saw a video of my sister. I can't imagine all the sad bottled up inside her little 8 year old body. We were "interviewing" her. How old are you Z? What is your favorite color? You know, stuff like that. At one point, we asked if she had any siblings. Affirmative. "Brother or sister?" "Brother." The look on her face then could kill a horse, just so sad and confused. "What is his name?" "Vanya"... "How old is he?" "Dva" (two). "Oh, does he live here too?" "No"...Could he be at the baby home? "Where does he live, Z?" "Home"....I almost died right then. She leaned over onto my lap and closed her eyes. Then a whole slew of girls came in, they found us...Z sat up and looked as happy as ever, and there was no mention of it again.Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-9172415401300460852011-12-17T19:47:00.000-08:002011-12-17T19:47:26.644-08:00Detskiy Dom № 5I miss it so much. I want to be back there so much. <br />
As you drive up the long, winding road to Visotky Village, you see the bright red roof of the orphanage. You close your eyes, and count to 30, now you hear the giggles of kids, "Amerakanka! Eta Briiid-zheeht! Oo ni yest padarek?"<br />
You open your eyes and see Toma, swinging on the broken swing, whistling into the wind. Galya running up to you "Briiid-zhyeht!!!! Ya skachayoo po tebya!!!!". You pick her up and carry her piggy-back inside, where you are ushered to a small room, to be welcomed. All the kids are waiting outside the door. As you hear the director go on about something, in a language that you do not know, all you want to do is go and see the kids.<br />
Z is nowhere to be seen, all the orphans run off with "kitty" to get their presents, while Nastia and I are going to the bathroom. Z begins to walk past us, and then latches onto me from behind. "Prri-zha" (She can't say my name correctly, so, Prizha will do!). <br />
<br />
<br />
Now, that was only the first 10 mnutes....But, I will describe to orphanage:<br />
When you walk in, the floor boards are creaky and wet. At lunch, I didn't dare ask what was in my soup...little did I know that it was cow heart. In the bathroom, no toilet paper. BOOK PAGES! On the walls are faded drawings done by the children. When you go upstairs, there are four bedrooms, each with easily 25 kids. They are packed in there like sardines. The beds are not even twin sized beds! Think back to summer camp when you were a kid, how little the beds were. They sleep on those every night. The ground level windows have bars on them. And these kids live here every day of the year.<br />
What will they get for Christmas? Likely a piece of fruit, and if they're extra lucky, a piece of candy. While kids in America are dreaming of getting a Wii, or a new TV, clothes, books, games, electronics, money. While my sestra is dreaming of a family, or nutritious food.<br />
On one of my favorite blogs, <a href="http://lastmom.blogspot.com/">Last Mom</a>, her daughter was in sunday school and was asked, what are you thankful for. This girl is from the U.S. foster care system, as haD been sience age 4 and was adopted at age 10. One girl says I'm thankful for my dog, a boy says, I'm thankful for my Nintendo. "Princess" said she was thankful for a BED. A BED.<br />
I almost fell out of my chair with the realization that kids EVEN HERE don't have a safe place to sleep tonight. Or if they do, it's on a cold, hard, floor.<br />
I will repeat, again and again, please help me bring one little girl home, to be safe, warm, dry, toilet-paper-enabled, loved, cared for and adored.<br />
It costs about $20,000. Think. Twenty-thoudand-dollars. Let that sink in. <br />
And it's me, a thirteen year old girl, trying to raise it....little help here?<br />
<br />
"Oh, honey pie, you are making me crazy.........so wont you please come home."<br />
-The BeatlesBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-27529493310760161012011-12-10T19:01:00.000-08:002011-12-10T19:01:35.877-08:00The 15 days of ChristmasAlright. Fine. It's the twelve days of Christmas. But in this caase, 15. Okay? This is a challenge. I want to raise enough money to get her home!!!!!<br />
Here are the rules:<br />
Today is December 10. I want to raise $10 today. Tomorrow is the eleventh, I want to raise $11 tomorrow.<br />
Everyday, I want to at least raise the amount of the date. (Dec. 25= $25)<br />
It's the Christmas season! Or Hannukah. Or Kwanza. Or Diwali. Whatever holiday you celebrate, this time of year is full of giving! I know a lot of families have many, many, many gifts to buy, for children and aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews and cousins and grandparents galore! And I understand if you don't have the money to give, but if you do, please? For Z?<br />
If this challenge goes succefully, we should have about $250 by the end of December. Maybe more. Please?<br />
---------------->>>>>>>>>>>>>>???????????<br />
<div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-large;">♥</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Merry Christmahannakwanzawali!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Much much love this holiday season!!!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-large;">-Bridget</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-large;">♥</span></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-2028536316223460972011-12-02T17:06:00.000-08:002011-12-02T17:06:03.671-08:00Busy Bee Bridget<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<br />
Woomph!<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">A weekend, what a relief! I've been really busy the past two days! Ok, I know thats not an excuse to not be blogging, but, I have.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">GOOD NEWS (Okay, maybe just to me, but still...) I AM LOUISA!!!!!! GO TO THE LAST POST IF YOU HAVE NOT HEARD ABOUT THE SOUND OF MUSIC YET!!!!!! Wow, but the rehursals are Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Fridays until March...Oh boy...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Thursday I had play practice until 4:30 (school is from 8 until 2:45) and then girlscouts until 6. Then a 5 paragraph thematic essay, some math homework and SLEEP.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1sEy3sggVDc/SwGv7jnrvUI/AAAAAAAABSo/L_eI316zZFE/s1600/BusyBee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="183" id="il_fi" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1sEy3sggVDc/SwGv7jnrvUI/AAAAAAAABSo/L_eI316zZFE/s200/BusyBee.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></a> Today was play practice until 3:30, and then piano lessons until 5. Less crazy, yes. But it's my dad's birthday, so no relaxing here! I got home, and a best friend of mine has had a very bad week, so I'm going and sleeping over her house to comfort her in a few minutes. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> All that on top of trying to keep up in real life, I am exausted!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> AND A HUMUNGOUS THANK YOU TO ALL WHO HAVE DONATED!!!!!!! ----------></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We're getting closer to out goal, but still need donations!!!!!! And if you do want a bracelet, email ,e at <a href="mailto:beadingzhome@aol.com">beadingzhome@aol.com</a> THANK YOU!<br />
Z will be so happy!!!!!!! I would say she thanks you, but she doesn't even know she's being adopted yet!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-Much Love</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Bridget</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">p.s. Merry Christmas!</div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-51072752556174050022011-11-14T17:16:00.000-08:002011-11-14T17:16:31.238-08:00The Hills are Alive ♪♫♪♫♪<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Mmmph. School Musicals..... Sound of Music......... I want to be Loiusa... But in order to audition for any of the girl parts, even if you don't want to be Maria, you must sing the "Sound of Music"...</div> Would somone like to explain how a girl like ME is going to be able to pull of OPERA?!?!<br />
Or if you would like to offer help....<br />
And donations for Z are still being accepted. And they are still greatly needed. So, over there ------->>><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hdDfz3pI2EQ/TCjwWZXeSTI/AAAAAAAAAWo/wcUaB8nK5Ng/s1600/som2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" id="il_fi" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hdDfz3pI2EQ/TCjwWZXeSTI/AAAAAAAAAWo/wcUaB8nK5Ng/s320/som2.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /></a></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-31065020138436532052011-11-08T18:33:00.001-08:002012-02-26T16:09:54.188-08:00RamblingHow I wish the song "Price Tag" was true (go <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6uPlhjTCqM">here</a> if you have not heard the song yet). Or at least the part that goes:<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mail.aol.com/34290-411/aol-6/en-us/mail/get-attachment.aspx?uid=17904&folder=Inbox&partId=0" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img class="AOLAttachedImage" filename="Photo-0239.jpg" partid="0" src="http://mail.aol.com/34290-411/aol-6/en-us/mail/get-attachment.aspx?uid=17904&folder=Inbox&partId=0" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(218, 218, 214); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(218, 218, 214); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(218, 218, 214); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(218, 218, 214); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; height: 206px; margin-bottom: 30px; visibility: visible; width: 275px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big Jug that we keep the adoption money in</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"It's not about the money, money, money<br />
We don't need your money, money, money<br />
We just wanna make the world dance,<br />
Forget about the price tag<br />
Ain't about the (uh) Cha-Ching Cha-Ching<br />
Ain't about the (yeah) Ba-Bling Ba-Bling<br />
Wanna make the world dance,<br />
Forget about the price tag."<br />
<br />
It would be SO amazing if the cost of adoption was even 3/4 the price it is.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">$20,000</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: black;"> (In the font that I used, it looks like 20.000, no, twenty thousand dollars.....)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">We need to raise that to get her here.... That IS including air-fare. A few generous people have already donated. But we DO need more! I personally do NOT like to ask for money, with no product in return. BUT if you do want a product, leave a comment saying what color bracelet (you can do multiple colors). You can choose out of red, green, blue, purple, orange, yellow, pink, or turquoise. :)</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> On a different-but-same note, Z MIGHT be elligable for a "speacial needs" grant. But, we have not found one that works with indepentant adoptions. Yes, she does have "speacial needs", but not in the way most people think of them. Her condtion is <em>very </em>serious. Statistics show that if she is left in Russia with her condition, she will probably only live until age 19. GIVE HER A CHANCE AT A FULL LIFE! Maybe that will motivate you? Or not, because no matter what, any orphaned child deserves a home.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Z's lucky, and so are lots of others, but what about the others? Are they gotting adopted? No. Do they know that someone on the other side of the <em>world </em>cares about them? Think about Lira, she was so amazingly adorable, but we cannot take them all. She would LOVE to have a home. A family. A mother to call her own. But I can almost guaruntee that she wont get one this year. Galya? Will she get a family? Unlikely.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> November is Adoption Awareness Month. If we can get $2,000 by November 30th, we can start on her adoption. Right now, it still is simply a "We will do it." Not "We did it" yet. Okay? Thats 22 days. So if I get $100 a day, we can do it.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> I'm going to be a combined Bob The Builder and Barack Obama here:</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>Bob, the builder</em></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">CAN WE DO IT?</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>Obama</em></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">YES WE CAN!</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-62646770486820057452011-11-04T16:56:00.000-07:002011-11-04T16:56:42.520-07:003 pieces left<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.dickersonparkzoo.org/assets/images/event-images/wolf-pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" id="il_fi" src="http://www.dickersonparkzoo.org/assets/images/event-images/wolf-pumpkin.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></a>As you know, Halloween was on Monday.... While I did not get that much candy, I did get a lot. Which made me think: How excited were the kids at the orphanage when we went to the store with them and let them get candy? They were so excited for one piece of candy the size of a quarter! And we get more than a pound of candy? Is that fair? No! It's not! So, I gathered all of my halloween candy, and divided it up: Things that will melt, things that won't melt and things I don't want to eat. And, after much trading with my brother, and lots of unfairness and yelling, I ended up with 5 sandwich bags filled with candy for Z, Galya, Valya, A and D. And I only kept 3 pieces for myself.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"> Also, a while ago, we made photo albums for those 5 kids (we had the most pictures of them) And we're planning on mailing them soon. Thank goodness we didn't mail them sooner! Now, each kid gets:</div><ul><li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A photo album</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A bag of candy</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A notebook</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A doodle book</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Pencils</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Erasers</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">A special Letter for them specificaly</div></li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"> Now, if anybody would like to write a letter to one of the kids there, maybe one that caught your heart in the pictures, comment with the letter and I'll translate it into Russian and send it to them! Be sure to include the child's name (or first initial...with gender!) and your name!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">OH! And you can now officially donate for Z's adoption (on the right)!!!!!!!</div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-27726237747453103102011-10-26T17:36:00.000-07:002011-10-26T17:36:06.655-07:00In the land of forgotten dreams...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Before you start reading this, it's a story that I'm writing spur of the moment). It has absolutely nothing to do with this blog, other than the fact that I love writing... Here you go!<br />
<br />
Chapter 1<br />
Through the Dream Field</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.photographyblogger.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/bubbles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" id="il_fi" src="http://www.photographyblogger.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/05/bubbles.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /></a>In the land of forgotten dreams, there live thousands of veterinarians, prima ballerinas, doctors and athletes. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"Why are all of these things <em>here</em>?" thought Rosie, as she walked through the field, looking at each and every person who walked by, taking in their faces, trying to see if she recognized anyone.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> A chorus of voices in the background were chanting something like "<span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" id="result_box" lang="la" tc="null"><em><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="757" tc="null">Nos</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="758" tc="null">ex</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="759" tc="null">...</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="760" tc="null">libertatis</span> </em><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"><em>autem". </em>A few people walked by, no, they wern't walking, more like, <em>floating?</em> and that's when Rosie noticed. These people did not have feet.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> "Excuse me, Miss," She said to the sickly thin model, "Where am I?"</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> The model stared back in silence, and after a few moments, replied, "No one knows where we are, kid. Just go with it. And don't ask too many questions." she began, "By the way, I'm Tia, and you are...?"</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> "Rosalinda Ericka Kennon. Now, why am I <em>here?</em>" Rosie asked, now slightly irritated. </span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> </span></span><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null">"Well, I can't tell what you are, probably an actress. We've got lots of those here." Tia grabbed another girl by the wrist and pulled her over to where they were floating. "Ramona, meet Rosalinda Ericka Kennon. I've got to go tend to the ponies, Ramona, show Rosalinda around."</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> Rosie felt bad for Ramona, she didn't look much more than 15. "Hi. I'm Ramona. Um, I guess I can show you around, if you want..." She started.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> "You can just call me Rosie. Tia didn't quite answer my question, Why am I here?"</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"> "You're here because you were someones childhood dream. That's what all of us are. I'm an artist, but, guess that kid wont be one. Once in a while, though, you'll see someone shoot up out of that opening over there screaming <span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_l9y3i3="150" id="result_box" lang="la" tc="null"><em><span class="hps" closure_uid_l9y3i3="116" tc="null">Lorem</span> </em><span class="hps" closure_uid_l9y3i3="117" tc="null"><em>ipsum!!! </em>Means 'I'm Free' in Latin. Most people here speak Latin. Don't know why. Anyway, a little girl named Lily wanted to be an artist when she was little, so she pursued it for a little while, fifteen months actually. Then moved on, and I got moved here. There are millions of us here. Dreams, we like to call ourselves." Ramona told her.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_l9y3i3="150" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_l9y3i3="117" tc="null"> "So, someone wanted to be an actress when they were little, but then abandoned that, so I got sent here. Right?" Rosie said.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_l9y3i3="150" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_l9y3i3="117" tc="null"></span></span></span></span><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_cp4itv="772" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_cp4itv="761" tc="null"><span a="undefined" c="4" class="short_text" closure_uid_l9y3i3="150" lang="la" tc="null"><span class="hps" closure_uid_l9y3i3="117" tc="null"> "Yep. Basically. But when someone re-adopts their childhood dreams, they take back the Dream that they abandoned" Ramona started "I just keep waiting to see if Lily wants to be an artist again... She never seems to do so, though. But, right now, she's only 13, so, I guess I still have a while to go." Ramona sighed a heavy sigh after this.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> "Alright, who wanted to be an actress? Who gave me up?" Rosie asked.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> "Well, it's really quite simple. Look at the inside of your wrist, silly!"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> So, Rosie turned her hand over, and sure enough, etched into her wrist with dried blood on it were three words:</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Amelia</span></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Madeline</span></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Griffon</span></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">-*-*-*-*-*-*-<br />
<br />
</div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-11347337605225677592011-10-06T13:12:00.000-07:002011-10-06T13:12:31.236-07:00The Matroyshka Doll<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://cdn2.iofferphoto.com/img/item/177/744/863/g_ijsF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" id="il_fi" src="http://cdn2.iofferphoto.com/img/item/177/744/863/g_ijsF.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="150" /></a> If you are in the process of adopting, and you have a Russian Matroyshka doll, please follow me in this... Last night, I broke out the blue and white doll I got in Red Square. I opened it up to all five dolls, its full size. And then realized that this is not a true image. I imagine these dolls to be a family. The biggest one being Dad, second biggest one being Mom (even though I am taller than her now...lol) the third smallest one being me, the second smallest, my brother. But, where's the littlest one? That doll represents Z. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> If you choose to take part in this, and you are adopting (There's at least one of you out there!) Take out the same number of dolls as there are in your family (eg. 4 people= 4 dolls). When your adopted child/sibling comes home, you take out the final doll. If there are already 5 people (typical doll set) you can double the dolls. Say, there are 2 parents, 2 sisters and a brother, you put the two sisters as one. The dolls are incomplete without the littlest one there. So is your family (while you have chosen to adopt; if not, carry on!) without the littlest one. Or middlest one. If your adoptive child is in between ages of already there children, put it inside the bigger one. And, if you don't have a sufficient amount of people in your immediate family, add aunts, uncles cousins to fill the gap(s).</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Now, when all this is done; display it! When your adoptive child comes home, your matroyshka family can grow along with your family. Just make sure there is enough room for your littlest one.</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Ready?</span></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-large;">Set?</span></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-large;">GO!</span><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-large;">!!!</span></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><img height="200" id="il_fi" src="http://cn1.kaboodle.com/hi/img/c/0/0/52/7/AAAADME25UcAAAAAAFJ03A.jpg?v=1244578979000" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">p.s. the Donation button will be up ASAP!</div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-70429490338113993832011-10-03T13:07:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:08:55.132-08:00On her way home...<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"Not arriving<br />
On our way back home<br />
We're on our way home<br />
We're on our way home<br />
We're going home<br />
<br />
Two of us sending postcards<br />
Writing letters"</em><br />
<em>-The Beatles</em><br />
<em>Two of us</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> That is the anthem of my head right now. It's not the entire song, because, well, it's a mushy love song. But! If we dissect the lyrics (magical sparkling noises, like what you hear in a children's unicorn cartoon.)</div><div style="text-align: left;">VOILA!</div><div style="text-align: left;">"Not arriving": Z certainly isn't arriving anytime soon. Sadly, BUT! Stay tuned for more amazing news!</div><div style="text-align: left;">"On our way back home": She <strong><em>is </em></strong>on her way back home! Or, maybe not <em>back </em>per-say, but, at least coming home. And, I do plan on being there when she comes home. Yes. WE will be on our way back home. Hopefully in June.</div><div style="text-align: left;">"Wer'e on our way home,</div><div style="text-align: left;">We're on out way home,</div><div style="text-align: left;">We're going home!": She's on her way home! She's on her way home! She's coming home!</div><div style="text-align: left;">And, I plan on sending her postcards, and letters, when she know's we're adopting her.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> On another note, No, she does not know we are adopting her. Because, what would happen if she knew. She would get really excited and happy, right? Now, what happens if something happens? A devastated Z, that's what.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> And, the good news! If there are 16 <em>really</em> generous people reading this, and they feel like donating $1000 each, we can pay for her adoption! Yes! We can still do an indepentant adoption! Only $16,000 instead of the $40,000 we thought it was going to cost. But, we still need the air fare. I'll show you what that looks like. There is a manditory 2 trips.</div><div style="text-align: left;">1st trip: around $6,000 in air-fare.</div><div style="text-align: left;">2nd trip: around $10,000 in air-fare.</div><div style="text-align: left;">That's if we all go on both trips. Which wont happen. Nice: Yes. Possible: Nope.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> And more news! I found even more of the kids on the adoptoin website! So, I'm advocating for them!</div><div style="text-align: left;"> Here's a few girls, I didn't recognize any of the boys, except one, who's already being adopted.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="b-fr1" closure_uid_o46bvb="460"><h3><a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/child/?id=tdpx" target="_blank"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="99" closure_uid_o46bvb="132">Tamara M.</span></span></a></h3><div class="fr-number" closure_uid_o46bvb="463"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="100" closure_uid_o46bvb="133">№ tdpx</span></span></div><div closure_uid_o46bvb="464"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="101" closure_uid_o46bvb="134">Kemerovo region </span></span><br />
<span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="101" closure_uid_o46bvb="135">Brothers and sisters do not</span></span></div><i><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="102" closure_uid_o46bvb="136">Possible forms of the device:</span></span></i><br />
<span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="102" closure_uid_o46bvb="137">adoption, guardianship, foster family</span></span></div><div class="b-fr2" closure_uid_o46bvb="465"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="103" closure_uid_o46bvb="138">The girl was born in August 1998</span></span><br />
<span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="104" closure_uid_o46bvb="139">Gray eyes</span></span><br />
<span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="105" closure_uid_o46bvb="140">Hair dark brown</span></span><br />
<span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="106" closure_uid_o46bvb="141">The character of a modest, kind, lively</span></span><br />
<a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/contacts/?region=20"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1"><span _gt_9k7dxicw2pfq="1" b="107" closure_uid_o46bvb="142">Where to go</span></span></a><br />
<br />
That's Toma. She's sweet and kind. She's one of the kids who followed me around.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div class="b-fr1" closure_uid_rnb4u8="449"> <br />
<div class="b-fr1" closure_uid_wyq3lg="457"><h3><a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/child/?id=2bt6y" target="_blank"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="81" closure_uid_wyq3lg="113">Catherine C.</span></span></a></h3><div class="fr-number" closure_uid_wyq3lg="458"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="82" closure_uid_wyq3lg="114">№ 2bt6y</span></span></div><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="83" closure_uid_wyq3lg="115">Kemerovo Region </span></span><br />
<span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="83" closure_uid_wyq3lg="116">has a brother or sister</span></span><br />
<i><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="84" closure_uid_wyq3lg="117">Possible forms of the device:</span></span></i><br />
<span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="84" closure_uid_wyq3lg="118">adoption, guardianship, foster family</span></span></div><div class="b-fr2" closure_uid_wyq3lg="460"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="85" closure_uid_wyq3lg="119">The girl was born in January 1999</span></span><br />
<span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="86" closure_uid_wyq3lg="120">Blue eyes</span></span><br />
<span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="87" closure_uid_wyq3lg="121">Hair</span></span><br />
<span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="88" closure_uid_wyq3lg="122">The nature of single-minded, optimistic, demanding</span></span><br />
<a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/contacts/?region=20"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1"><span _gt_giiwu5s4ducd="1" b="89" closure_uid_wyq3lg="123">Where to go</span></span></a><br />
<br />
That's Katya. She speaks a little bit of english, I don't know much about her except that she's very bright!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="b-fr1" closure_uid_v9i91="458"><h3><a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/child/?id=8him" target="_blank"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="90" closure_uid_v9i91="124">Valery B.</span></span></a></h3><div class="fr-number"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="91" closure_uid_v9i91="125">№ 8him</span></span></div><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="92" closure_uid_v9i91="126">Kemerovo region </span></span><br />
<span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="92" closure_uid_v9i91="127">Brothers and sisters do not</span></span><br />
<i><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="93" closure_uid_v9i91="128">Possible forms of the device:</span></span></i><br />
<span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="93" closure_uid_v9i91="129">adoption, guardianship, foster family</span></span></div><div class="b-fr2" closure_uid_v9i91="462"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="94" closure_uid_v9i91="130">The girl was born in September 1999</span></span><br />
<span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="95" closure_uid_v9i91="131">Blue eyes</span></span><br />
<span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="96" closure_uid_v9i91="132">Hair dark brown</span></span><br />
<span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="97" closure_uid_v9i91="133">Nature sociable, cheerful, inquisitive</span></span><br />
<a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/contacts/?region=20"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1"><span _gt_g3gld9dpe4ph="1" b="98" closure_uid_v9i91="134">Where to go</span></span></a><br />
<br />
That is Lira! She's VERY social and tries her best to communicate with you, So sweet!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="b-fr1"><h3><a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/child/?id=27lhm" target="_blank">Яна М.</a></h3><div class="fr-number">№ 27lhm</div>Кемеровская область<br />
Есть братья или сестры<br />
<i>Возможные формы устройства:</i><br />
усыновление, опека, приемная семья</div><div class="b-fr2">Девочка родилась в июне 2000<br />
Глаза голубой<br />
Волосы русые<br />
Характер общительная, активная, настойчивая<br />
<a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/contacts/?region=20">Куда обращаться</a><br />
<br />
That's Yana. She's VERY quiet, and realllllllyyyy tiny! But, she's just so cute!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="b-fr1"><h3><a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/child/?id=1rma2" target="_blank">Валентина Д.</a></h3><div class="fr-number">№ 1rma2</div>Кемеровская область<br />
Братьев и сестер нет<br />
<i>Возможные формы устройства:</i><br />
опека, приемная семья</div><div class="b-fr2">Девочка родилась в апреле 2001<br />
Глаза карий<br />
Волосы русые<br />
Характер общительная, активная, творческая<br />
<a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/contacts/?region=20">Куда обращаться</a><br />
<br />
Valya! She is one of my favorites! I love her so much! She desperatly want's a family.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="b-fr1"><h3><a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/child/?id=2bmve" target="_blank">Галина Ч.</a></h3><div class="fr-number">№ 2bmve</div>Кемеровская область<br />
Есть братья или сестры<br />
<i>Возможные формы устройства:</i><br />
усыновление, опека, приемная семья</div><div class="b-fr2">Девочка родилась в феврале 2002<br />
Глаза голубой<br />
Волосы русые<br />
Характер спокойная, застенчивая<br />
<a href="http://www.usynovite.ru/contacts/?region=20">Куда обращаться</a><br />
<br />
Galya. She's mine people! Unless we can't raise the funds....She is so super social. In almost all of the videos we took at the orphanage, she's there saying "Privet" and waving to the camera.<br />
<br />
SO! I saw some kids that looked farmliar, and I didn't want to say "Oh! This is Nastia! She's really sweet and love's to hug" and then on the next post be saying: Yeah, Nastia isn't at Destky Dom 5, disregard that!"<br />
Off to bed! Bye!</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-76928139615623003382011-09-23T15:06:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:08:02.014-08:00Bunking with a 8 year old and BIG NEWS!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, we found where G and I are going to sleep! In a bunk bed! We found it at Ikea a few days ago for only $160! It's kind of boring, but we can add stickers and such.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img height="400" id="il_fi" src="http://www.ikea.com/us/en/images/products/mydal-bunk-bed-frame__63504_PE171155_S4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is it!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table> Any way, I'll be on the top, and she'll be on the bottom. Over the course of the next few months, the whole initials thing will probably get really confusing. So, G that I've been refering to all along, her name can also be spelled with a Zh. It's pronounced like the g in rouge, and spelled with this symbol: <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="hps" closure_uid_njgcqo="227" td="null">Ж. Which, translated to English makes the zh sound. Or j. Or g. Whatever you want to call it. But, from now on, I am going to call her Z. because there is another G at the orphanage that we may or may not adopt.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="hps" closure_uid_njgcqo="227" td="null"> Which leads me to my next subject. In case you have'nt heard yet, tons of kids from Detski Dom are on the Russian adoption website! G is there! Z isn't but, she's still available. Here is G's "profile"!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="hps" closure_uid_njgcqo="227" td="null"></span></span>Oh, and by the way, this doesn't mean we now miraculously have all of the money. We still need donations. NEED! Z will never come home unless Russia just starts giving away children (and let's face it, that'll never happen.) We need to raise $40,000 to get her home. There is still the possibility that we can do it by the "old rules" and it will only cost $16,000, but thats still a lot. And we also need airplane tickets. And money for the bed. And matresses (you can't put normal matresses on a bunk bed. $99 each...yikes!). And clothes. And we only have about a little bit saved. So, umm, yeah. This whole adoption thing is going to be <em>really really <strong>expensive</strong></em>. So, help us save! And if you cannot donate yourselves, and you have a blog, please advocate for her! You know, if you want to. No pressure. Can we make it happen? Maybe? But, as I know, and we all know:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> <strong><span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">WE CAN DO IT!!!!!</span></strong></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;">Oh, yeah. We're having technilogical difficulties with accepting donations</span> right now, and will make it possible ASAP, and if you want to donate, just leave a comment saying you would like to, and I'll help you get it in. Okay? Sorry for the "glitches".</div><br />
<h1><span _gt_nnhvfwwgepzs="1"><span _gt_nnhvfwwgepzs="1" b="14" closure_uid_fhhebl="20">Detailed page of the Child</span></span></h1><div class="
b-filtresult b-filtresult-first
" closure_uid_fhhebl="71"> <br />
<div class="b-fr1" closure_uid_fhhebl="70"><div closure_uid_fhhebl="76"><span a="undefined" c="4" closure_uid_qmc6kg="111" id="result_box" lang="ru"><span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="81">Галина</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="82">С.</span><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="94" /><span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="83">№</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="84">2bmve</span><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="95" /><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="96" /><span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="85">Кемеровская область</span><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="97" /><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="98" /><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="99" /><span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="86">У Вас есть</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="87">братья или сестры</span><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="100" /><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="101" /><span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="88">Возможные формы</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="89">устройства:</span><br closure_uid_qmc6kg="102" /><span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="90">усыновления,</span> <span class="hps" closure_uid_qmc6kg="91">опеки</span><span closure_uid_qmc6kg="92">, приемной семьи</span></span></div><div closure_uid_fhhebl="76"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_fhhebl="76"><span a="undefined" c="4" closure_uid_qmc6kg="111" lang="ru"><span closure_uid_qmc6kg="92">She's so adorable! I love her so much! It's a recent picture too! Well, all's well that end well, right?</span></span></div><div closure_uid_fhhebl="76"><span a="undefined" c="4" closure_uid_qmc6kg="111" lang="ru"><span closure_uid_qmc6kg="92">Pakah! Dos Svydanya! Goodbye! See ya real soon!</span></span></div><div closure_uid_fhhebl="76"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_fhhebl="76"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_qmc6kg="121" id="spell-place-holder" style="height: 44px;"></div></div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-59634228859795819832011-09-11T08:00:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:06:39.974-08:00Menya Malaenkaya Sestra!<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> For those of you who dont't know Russian, the title means "My little sister". And for those of you who speak fluent Russian, I don't care if that scentence does not make any sense. I took the words "My" "little" and "sister", and put them together. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> <em>Anyway!</em> Yes! For real! She (G) is going to be my little sister soon! <strong>WOO HOO!</strong> But, here's a catch. We <strike>want</strike> <em>Need</em> to raise money to get her here. It sounds like alot, but we need $40,000. Don't think about how much I need in total, but think about how much <em>you are able need to give</em> in total. I honesly don't care if it's a penny, or a gazillion dollars. Justlease would you help? And if you really can't afford anything, just encouragement is welcome. Anything to get my little monkey home. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> There is also a possiblility that I will be going back in November. But, this time, instead of $1,000, we need to raise $2,000, just for <em>my </em>air-fare. And another $2,000 for my mother. Again, it's alot, and sometimes, even I think that my ambitions are too big. But, we can do it, tell your best friend, mom, dad, aunt, uncle and cat, and we can just maybe do it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> What if I put on a puppy face? Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Please?</span></div><div align="center">And a note from my mom.................</div><div align="center">Dear Readers,</div><div align="center">My name is Kim, I'm the proud mother of Bridget (and her brother, and soon to be "G" whose name, for privacy reasons, I cannot reveal yet)</div><div align="center">We have indeed commited to adopting "G" and bringing her out of a life of hopelessness and into our hopelessly fun and loving family.</div><div align="center">G has a serious illness that is treatable here in the U.S. She receives treatment in Siberia, but they have extremely limited resources.</div><div align="center">Politics and money are our only obstacles. The U.S and Russia have just signed an agreement, which prevents private adoptions. The current cost? $40,000.</div><div align="center">I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that money could mean the difference between a REAL LIFE for this child, or a lifetime of bleakness - and a certainly shorter lifetime. History and statistics show that if she remains where she is, she can expect to live only until about age 19-24. </div><div align="center">I am sure you have already noticed that my little darling, Bridget, can be pretty persistent....and so she has asked me to please ask for and accept donations online.</div><div align="center">As Bridget says "Mom, nobody HAS to help us....but for those who WANT to, and are ABLE to....we can give them the opportunity. G would like that."</div><div align="center">I have resisted for a long time. Now, because of our love for this child - I will let go of my pride.</div><div align="center">I will add a paypal button - and graciously accept your help, and promise to keep every one of you updated on our progress and G's life.</div><div align="center">No funds will move from G's account until they are spent DIRECTLY FOR HER ADOPTION!</div><div align="center">If we do not raise enough, then donors will choose a refund or option to use the amount for G at the orphanage (medical care, clothing, whatever you choose).</div><div align="center">Thank you, and stay tuned for the adventures of G.............!!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is Bridget again. I say "No, mom, it's not an option not to not raise enough. It's just a how long it will take. It will not be 'If we don't raise enough'"</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-63443667922294251672011-09-06T17:41:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:06:24.942-08:00Already Saving To Go Back<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I know, it might not seem like a lot, but I already have $100 saved up to go back. Or, better yet, adopt my little princess. Sure, it's barely a anything out of the $2000 or so dollars needed to go back, but, hey! I managed to raise $1000 from January to May, so what's the problem with raising another $2000 in an even longer time span? No problem. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> I'm trying not to be too too confident in this, but it just feel's like there's a ball of fire exploding from my gut, just going "Hey! Guess what? If you don't do this, I'm going to make you explode! Are'nt you happy about that? No? Well! Get to work, mister!" Figuratively speaking, of course. But, if it make's you more motivated to help, it's not figurative! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> But, for now, I'm off on my merry selling spree! Some people go on spending spree's when they have a lot of money, I go on selling spree's. To get those spenderers to spend their money, for a good cause. So, If you want to buy something to support those Siberian orphans, here are some picture's of things that I am selling. They can be custom made, for the same price.</span><br />
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<div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-14211741956830728692011-08-09T18:36:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:05:37.430-08:00Desperately Needed: HOPE<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> We need hope more than ever right now. This is not a joke. Or a campaign for orphans. It's not my usual stuff. We need hope.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> Reason: Anya has been shot. With a gun. In her ankle. She was in a store and someone she didn't even know just shot her in the ankle. I don't know the details, and I don't have the authority to share them even if I did. All I know is that she's in a hospital in Kemerovo. We saw the outside of the hospital while we were there and know how horrible it is. I didn't go in (thank God), but the outside looks like something out of a really bad horror movie. There's blood stains outside on the side walk, and on the corner of a busy intersection.</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h6xb8kaW37E/TkHgWln0eiI/AAAAAAAAAE0/K_CDjcvhCz0/s1600/DSCN6076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h6xb8kaW37E/TkHgWln0eiI/AAAAAAAAAE0/K_CDjcvhCz0/s320/DSCN6076.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of the ambulances in kemerovo</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> And, to add to that, the ambulances look like dead hippie vans.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: cyan; color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">HOPE IS DESPERATELY NEEDED RIGHT NOW, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: cyan; color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: x-large;">FOR ANYA!!!!</span></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-10615792862523730142011-08-06T18:45:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:05:22.902-08:00More than ever...<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> I've been missing my little sister more than anything these past few days. While I've been at Rebel (see <a href="http://www.creatingmyownlittlenirvana.blogspot.com/">Keri's blog</a>), I've been thinking, "If I do great in this scene, G will be able to come home!". Stupid things like that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> But! There is good news! My dad <em>has </em>said "yes" to adopting her. Now, we need to:</span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Find out if she's actually adoptable</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Raise the money, $40,000.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Get an adoption agency that's <em>not </em>blacklisted in Russia. Preferably in New England, so we don't have to raise extra money to get the social worker to my house.</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> Now that we're closer than ever, I miss her more than ever. I keep thinking I see her everywhere I go. A <span style="background-color: white;">little girl with black hair at the park today made me </span><span style="background-color: white;">über excited. It wasn't her. I imagine her sleeping next to me when I sleep at night. I can picture her sitting at our dining room table while we're eating dinner. I can't seem to go 15 minutes without thinking of her.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><span style="background-color: white;"> So, for now, here's some pictures of me and her, and just her.</span></span><br />
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</span></span>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-7033110059848799282011-07-24T19:16:00.000-07:002011-07-24T19:16:56.434-07:00Everlasting Luck<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I got home from camp yesterday night. The entire week, I was thinking about how lucky I am. Sure, my life gets confusing and hard at times, but these kids at camp stories are so much more. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> A girl whose sister has a brain tumor, and had to learn how to walk, talk and communicate again. A girl whose sister is 6,000 miles away, and is not allowed to come back to the US, the US embassy in Moscow wont let her. And those are only two of them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> It makes me excedingly angry. And, I just want my little sister home. She might not even be available for adoption. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> My birthday is in 5 days. I'll be 13. In three years, if I lived in the orphanage, I'd be kicked out. Just gone. No longer adoptable. Like so many others. <strong><em>Every single Russian orphan has that same fate.</em></strong> Let that sink in. All of them. Unless they get adopted, which isn't likely for most of them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> America: Sweet Sixteen. Big party. Lots of presents and friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> Russian Orphans: Scared to death. Packing their small belongings. Leaving all of thier friends and safety.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> The kids don't have everlasting luck, they have almost no luck. When we were there, Keri asked a little boy what he wanted to be when he grows up. He replied "A coal miner". "Think big"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">"A Taxi driver!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Where are they to turn when they reach 16? When they get too old for the orphanage? When they get thrown out onto the streets? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Think about that. Where do they go?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Prostitution? Maybe. Drug Dealing? Sure. Suicide? It's possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">The out aged ones are scrounging for money. They'll do anything for it. They need homes. Now. Before they're too old.</span>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-22860254557467558482011-07-10T05:48:00.000-07:002011-07-10T05:48:07.791-07:00Heading off<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://profile.ak.fbcdn.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/50281_355605637027_8216104_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" id="il_fi" src="http://profile.ak.fbcdn.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/50281_355605637027_8216104_n.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The main entrance at camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Later today, I will be heading off to camp. This means I will not have access to this blog while I am there. <em>But</em> it's so amazingly fun! Here are some of the activities:</span></div><ul><li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Horse back ride</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Arts and Crafts</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Cooking</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Swimming</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Amusement parks</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Campfires</span></div></li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> It's so insanely fun!!! When I get home, I can post pictures from the 2 weeks. But until then, Ta-Ta for now!!!</span></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-44855681731070530302011-07-05T19:55:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:04:01.682-08:00<div align="center"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Someday, Somewhere,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana;">The world will have,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Verdana;">Some peace to share.</span></div><div align="center"><img height="406" id="il_fi" src="https://cacpeaceday.wikispaces.com/file/view/Peace_Day_page_logo.jpg/31266777/Peace_Day_page_logo.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="291" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There will be peace one day,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana;">when all is well,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana;">All together,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Verdana;">We can tell.</span></div><div align="center"><img height="200" id="il_fi" src="http://1x14x30.com/thumb_HandsJoiningtheWorld1.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"And the world,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Verdana;">Will live as one"</span></div><div align="center"><img class="rg_hi" data-height="224" data-width="224" height="224" id="rg_hi" 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" style="height: 224px; width: 224px;" width="224" /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love, Love,Love,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Bridget</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">3rd hint to my sisters name:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">15-1=?</span></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-29761873495826728312011-07-03T17:38:00.001-07:002012-02-26T16:03:42.213-08:00And all the pretty little horses...<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, Coach and six white horses. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Written circa 1884, by an enslaved mother singing to her baby girl who she couldn't take care of, because her owner needed their baby taken care of.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div> <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Now, her baby <em>had </em>a mother. That baby <em>will </em>get taken care of, when the mother escapes (which she did, and the baby was 4). She gets fed, and is a normal height and weight for her age. Look at the kids at Detski Dom #5. Little G, who is 8 years old, really could pass off for being 5. These orphans don't need horses (though, they would love them!). They need enough food and CLEAN water to have adequate care. It just scares me to see an almost 9 year old be so tiny. I don't know how they survive. They all need loving families in a not-so-poverty-stricken country. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> I'm heading off to camp on Sunday, for two weeks. My camp is filled with horses, rock climbing, swimming and loads of fun. In about two weeks, all the kids at the orphanage get deported to camp so the orphanage can get cleaned. I have no idea what its like there, but it can't be fun. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> Everyone reading this, you can comment with a letter to one of the kids. I'll translate and print it. Then sent it to the child. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> And, the second hint to my little sister's name:</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">6-1=?</span></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5485010195987809019.post-82069009700029310342011-06-28T16:45:00.000-07:002011-06-28T16:45:25.670-07:00A few things that make me cheer up!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/33o32C0ogVM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Because I'm really down lately, and want to stay away from the computer, I've discovered some really favorite things! Such as:</span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Reeses Peanut butter cups</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">A very funny blog, <a href="http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/">Hyperbole and A half</a>, By Allie.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Coloring</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Baking</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Shiny things covered in glitter</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Walking my dog, he was almost unwalkable.</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> My dog never walked normaly before. It would be "Hey DOG you want to go for a walk!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">DOG "Of course I do!!!! *pant*lick*arf*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">ME "Okay, lets go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Dog oh-so-not-gently rips arm out of socket and we end with a crying Bridget running home to mom to punish the dog and get an ice-pack. BTW the dogs acctual name is DOG, pronounced dee-oh-gee.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> But, he walks now. We got him a be-good collar, and it works! Hallelujah!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> Hyperbole and a half is a very funny blog in which a 25 year old Allie takes her everyday situations and turns them into very dramatic scenes. Her "simple dog" and "helper dog" are there to comfort. She does not post very often, but just look around. She's hilarious.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> AND! For all who have been waiting, all of those pointless snow days have come to a close, and the frantic school year of 2010-2011 is coming to a close tomorrow. That means no more teachers who put their foot up on the black board to show you the bunion that they're getting removed on monday. No more walking up and down 4 flights of stairs everyday. No more waking up at 7am. Sadly, no more Ms. Rosenzweig. She's possibly the best teacher ever. And, the shocking reality hits me, I'll be in high school next year. Not next school year, but next year-year. 2012. Graduating class of 2016. I'll be in college in 5 years! Boy, does that put things into perspective. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> And, I'll possibly be going to Russia even sooner to see my Gorgeous little sister (soul) I'm giving you a puzzle and on the 5th post starting now, comment with what you think is her name. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">8 minus 1... thats your first hint.</span>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16122213565110581464noreply@blogger.com0