<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>WIRL Project &#187; Entertainment</title>
	<atom:link href="http://www.wirlproject.com/category/entertainment/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://www.wirlproject.com</link>
	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Sun, 19 Apr 2026 12:00:25 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en-US</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>https://wordpress.org/?v=4.1.37</generator>
	<item>
		<title>Reality &#8211; What It&#8217;s Really Like</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/reality-what-its-really-like/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/reality-what-its-really-like/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 18 Nov 2015 16:00:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brody]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Food/Drink]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health/Fitness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Home/Garden]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Style/Beauty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ABCs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bedtime with toddlers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Born]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Challenge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Marriage]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mornings]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[No Coffee]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Real World]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Reality]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Road Rules]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Toddler]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=9912</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like… Back in 1998 MTV debuted the reality TV show Real World/Road Rules Challenge – better known as simply, “The Challenge”.  In reflection of my current life I have found that much my own reality is impacted by challenges from the real world and the rules of the road. *** BASED ON ACTUAL EVENTS: 4:30AM – the alarm rings out.  The real world will begin after a few open handed smacks of the snooze button.  Is it mommy or daddy’s turn to take the boys to school?  Whoever’s turn it is has the first shower.  I can’t remember what she said last night.  Was it me or her?  She’s not moving.  Shit, I think it’s my day.  Yep, it is.  OK I’m up. Ouch!  How many times am I going to kick that laundry basket before somebody moves it?  Where is the light?  What’s the difference?  I can’t see anything anyways.  Toothbrush.  Man, the lights are bright.  I’ll try to rub my eyes a few times to clear my eyesight.  Whoa, wish I could not see again.  You look like crap.  When is the last time you worked out?  Ugh, I guess I’ll weigh myself.  That might motivate me to run tonight after work.  Please don’t be high.  WOW.  How is that possible?  I feel 25 pounds heavier than that.  I still feel like crap, though.  Lucky.  Probably still won’t run tonight, anyway. Pounding sinus headache.  Not a sip of alcohol last night and I feel like I’ve pulled an all-night bender and just stopped drinking an hour ago.  Time for the shower.  Don’t forget to turn the light on in Little room before you get into the shower.  It is taking a lot longer for him to get out of bed lately.  Maybe today I can get him dressed on his own without World War III breaking out.  Doubt it. What the hell do I wear today?  This closet selection is so sad.  God, I hate ironing my pants.  Why don’t I do this the night before?  Oh, Kathy’s up.  I’m not going to say anything.  She’s not a morning person.  That’s ok.  I feel like my head is going to explode and I don’t feel like talking either.  Let’s see if Little B is up while I wait for the iron to warm up.  Nope.  He won’t even move.  Why can’t he sleep this hard EARLIER in the night?  I’ll shake him to get things going. “Hey, buddy.  Time to wake up.  Rise and shine!” “No, no, nonono, GO AWAY DADDY.  Leave me ALONE!” When did my toddler turn into a teenager? “Five minute warning and we are going to get dressed.” “No, no, NOOOOOOOO!” I’m so glad he hasn’t learned any cuss words.  I half expect him to use a few one of these mornings. OK, I am dressed.  Now let’s get him dressed.  This has to be the worst part of the day.  What is my strategy?  He’s been terrible to wake and get ready lately.  Sneak attack?  No, that makes things worse.  I can’t bribe him this early.  Let him make the choice. “Who do you want to get you dressed – Mommy or Daddy?”  Classic line.  He usually picks the opposite. “Noooooo!  I DON’T KNOW” That didn’t work.  Now what? Have to try the bribe. “If you get up and get ready without crying we can go get donuts on Friday morning before school.  Do you want donuts?” “I don’t want donuts.  I don’t want to go to school.  Leave me alone, Daddy!” This is turning into a hostage negotiation. *15 minutes pass* I can’t take this anymore.  I am going to start yelling.  Now I’m yelling louder.  OK, now I am threatening to spank him.  Should I spank him?  He just woke up.  That’s really not right.  He is really pissing me off today.  I’m going to be late.  Enough is enough.  Well, that didn’t work.  He’s bawling now.  Kathy just walked in.  THANK GOD.  He has everything but his socks on now.  Good enough.  She can brush his teeth and comb his hair.  I’m out of here. I am starving.  It’s 6:25.  SERIOUSLY?!  I have not even eaten yet.  Why are there no clean spoons?  Cereal sucks when you ate the same exact meal as a snack before going to bed.  ARRRGHHHH!  I just remembered!   I have to pack my lunch.  Unreal.  I have no time for this.  I hear Little B coming down the stairs.  How did she brush his teeth so fast?  No wait, he’s at the top of the stairs refusing to come down.  Awesome.  He hasn’t eaten yet either.  Let’s try the line again. “What do you want for breakfast?  Mommy or Daddy’s cereal?” “I don’t want breakfast!  I want NUFFING!” I look at the clock.  It is 6:29.  Zero hour is 6:30.  The commute is only 15 miles, but traffic is horrific.  If I don’t leave before 6:30 I won’t make it to work until after 8:00.  Screw it.  Leftovers.  Where is the ice pack for my lunch?  Of course I forgot to put it back in the freezer yesterday.  Good thing we have a backup.  Cute, real cute.  The backup ice packs are so fat that the Tupperware doesn’t fit in my lunch bag.  Guess I’ll have to make a sandwich after all. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR BREAKFAST?” “NUFFING!” I’m pouring a bowl, I don’t care.  At least I can say that I tried. “Here’s your cereal” “I DON’T WANT IT” “OK, Daddy is going to eat it or throw it away” “NONONO!” (crying ensues)  “I want to eat it!!!” “Sit down at your little table and eat it then.” “Ok… I WANT A BIG SPOON!  I DON’T WIKE THE GREEN BOWL!  I WANT THE BLUE BOWL!!!!” You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.  You know what, I am not even going to fight him today.  Where is that damn blue bowl?  Dirty in the dishwasher.  Figures.  Well that’s out the window. “EAT IT OR IT GETS THROWN AWAY!” (Sobbing ensues) What time is it now?  6:34. I can still make decent time if I am in my truck by 6:45. COFFEE. This can’t be happening.  THERE IS NO COFFEE.  I have no time to make coffee. “Welp, there is no coffee!!!” “I’m so sorry Brody, I can’t do everything around here!” Oops.  That wasn’t for her to hear.  She did get Little B and Baby K ready without my help.  Doesn’t matter anymore. I explode. I light into everything in the kitchen.  Little B, Kathy, the freezer, coffee maker.  I’ll even cuss out my lunch bag while I’m at it. Shut up and get out before you ruin everyone’s day. Truck keys.  I’ve got to get out of here.  I’m going to be late.  I feel horrible for not helping Kathy.  She won’t want my help now because I yelled back at her.  Why do I do that? *15 minutes pass* We are all loaded up.  Deep breath.  We made it.  Start the truck, garage door down, aaaand adjust radio.  No Country this morning.  I need to calm down.  Where is the Jazz station?  There that is better.  Silence. “Daddy, I hungie (hungry)”. *** For me, reality comes in one giant cycle commencing and culminating with two massive countdowns for launching (departing the house) and landing (bedtime).  The road rules quality time spent with my children during three hour commutes in which I stare at the rearview mirror into the backs of their little eyelids after they have passed out from a long day at school.  The reality of “R” is a challenge that each of us faces every day. Rise, retain, remain, retire. Repeat. &#160;]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/reality-what-its-really-like/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>P: Poise &#8211; What It&#8217;s Really Like</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/p-poise-what-its-really-like/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/p-poise-what-its-really-like/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 26 Oct 2015 03:57:28 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brody]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health/Fitness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Home/Garden]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[News/Sports]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ABCs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Collapsing Pocket]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Competition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Conversions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fall]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Football]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Opposition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Optimism]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Panic]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poise]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Possession]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pressure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Quarterback]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=9575</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like…  Poise – verb &#8211; to hold (something) in a balanced and steady position The season of fall features a great dose of excitement for sports fans.  Playoff baseball, college/professional football, hockey and basketball all joust for the spotlight in the late months of the year in America.  As the days grow shorter, so do the sleep patterns of most sports enthusiasts attempting to absorb as much of the action as possible while still being able to have the strength to function on a day-to-day basis. I have always been able to sit down and immerse myself in an athletic contest even without knowing anything about either team playing.  The art of competition is fascinating.  As in most sports, skill, will and a bit of luck all play a role in determining factors in the eventual outcome of a game.  A man I used to coach with used to tell our players the competition was about weathering the storm.  Players should anticipate a violent storm during the contest.  It would be inevitable.  Would they allow the storm to disrupt the game plan and their top goal or would they hold steady during inclement conditions?  Most times, but not always, the team that does the best job at balancing the highs and lows emerge victorious. Saturdays and Sundays in the fall place a popular focus on the football gridiron.  Each game a significant amount of attention is paid to the quarterback position.  This is understandable for the large number of responsibilities the signal caller holds on each play.  Having played the position before I have an insurmountable respect for each player that gets under center.  Beyond ball handling and arm strength the quarterback position requires many intangible skills; most of which cannot be taught: composure, leadership, decision making, instinct, adaptability, internal clock and moxie.   Aside from athletic talent, all of those skills can be boiled down into one classification: poise. Great poise is undeniable.  Coach K writes in his book (Beyond Basketball) “…poise is the opposite of panic…it (poise) requires maturity.  It’s about remaining mentally and emotionally balanced all the time, no matter what is taking place around you.”  I obviously no longer play football, but that does not mean that I have stopped trying to sidestep the oncoming rush of the opposition.  One of the first cardinal rules to follow as a quarterback is to take care of the football and maintain a possession.  Many aspire to be placed in a position to call the shots having no idea what it takes to stand in the pocket and play the game.  When faced with pressure are you converting or turning it over?  When the rush is on and the pocket is collapsing how do you protect what is important and maintain possession of something you have worked so hard to claim?  Poise or panic?  We all play our own game.  We all face a different opponent.  Only you can answer that question. &#8220;Clear the mechanism&#8221; -Billy Chapel &#8220;Ease the pounding of your heart by quieting your mind&#8221; -GMa &#8220;Keep calm and carry on&#8221; -WWII Brits Evidence and reminders of poise are all around.  Face each day possessed with optimism, meet your opposition with poise and keep on converting. ]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/p-poise-what-its-really-like/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>I Miss You Today</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-miss-you-today/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-miss-you-today/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 27 Aug 2015 08:00:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kassidy Everard]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goodbye]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Grieve]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Miss you]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[See You Again]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Today]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Tomorrow]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=8505</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I woke up with a frown on my face. Looked out the window, saw the rain, and questioned what reasoning I had to get out of bed. I sluggishly put on my t-shirt and faded blue jeans. Not caring about what I looked like, I paired my outfit with some broken sandals tied together by a thin black string. I wondered what might be so different about the day when so far, everything was as somber as usual on a Monday morning. I went downstairs to get something to eat. I opened the fridge twice, maybe three times then shut it empty handed. I moved over to the cabinet. Opening it twice, maybe three times before closing it &#8211; again empty handed&#8230; I suddenly lost my appetite. I sat on the couch as thoughts of you ran through my head. Tears fell from my eyes as a memory of you passed through. But it&#8217;s never just one tear. They come in waves, and some days I drown in them. The world looks different without you here, almost as if the sun doesn&#8217;t shine as bright, but the moon shines  brighter. There is more light in my darkest days because I can close my eyes and remember you. But the light in my brighter days seems dull, because I no longer share this light with you. I go through my day like I normally would when you we&#8217;re here, but the memories creep into my head and stick like molasses- distracting me from making any progress. And I tell myself I need you, as if you&#8217;re not around anymore.  As if you disappeared off the face of the earth. As If I will never see you again. But I will see you again. And even though the thought of seeing you again seems like a fantasy played over and over in my head time after time I believe it&#8217;s true. I try to let go of the pain, but your absence makes it harder to tell myself that you&#8217;re okay. Instead of letting my pain go, I hold on to it like a leech on my back. This pain, sucking the blood out of my veins, turning me cold. I set aside my own life to grieve but grieving has started to become my life. The very day I noticed I greive 90% of my day and have a half-hearted smile the other 10% is the day I put an end to the pain of your absence. I realized that holding onto this pain will not help me get through anything and that focusing on the good times we had together will help me face the reality that there is nothing I can do to bring you back. I never got to say a proper goodbye to all of you&#8230;. I wasn&#8217;t there for any of it. But as time goes on I see that it isn&#8217;t goodbye that I have to say. It&#8217;s &#8220;I&#8217;ll see yas later.&#8221; &#160; Aunt Tina, Uncle Tink, Aunt Terina,  Aunt Karen, Grandpa Platt, and Andrew, my love has not ended for you. My love has only gotten stronger. And as I lay my head on my pillow tonight, I smile for all the things I did and all the things I will do in your honor each day I live. I may not ever hold your hand again or hear your voice, but inside my heart none of you are dead. You&#8217;re all fully alive and when I am the same amount of alive as you are  I will see you again. I missed you today, but not in the same ways that I will miss you tomorrow.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/i-miss-you-today/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Too Many Choices!</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/too-many-choices/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/too-many-choices/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 26 Aug 2015 07:30:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brody]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Food/Drink]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Home/Garden]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Style/Beauty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Technology/Web]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Choices Entitlements Decision Making Distractions Freestyle On Demand This and That This and This Too Many Choices]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=8359</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Over the last year my wife and I have attempted to emphasize the importance of making good choices with our toddler. It has been an extremely daunting task to not only teach him what a choice is, but help guide him toward decision making that we find acceptable. We both feel that the quickest way for him to learn is to have a high level of autonomy over minor situations so that he can practice the skill while we still make most of the major decisions for him controlling and modeling proper behavior. So far we have seen vast improvements in his understanding of choice, but like most children this age it is a test of wills between parent and child. So much of our lives are driven by choices. We make thousands of them each day. Even as an adult I find myself struggling with the ability to choose especially in a culture that now seems to demand entitlements of individualization and variety. Our culture seems to have shifted from a nation who wants this and that to a nation of this and this. Personalizing options are meant to help one feel in control, satisfied and fulfilled. These popular trends produce high pressure to keep up with demand.  How then, can I find the freedom to choose to feel so restricting? I get a restrictive, suffocating feeling when I am at Zaxby’s in front of a Coke Freestyle machine. If you have never seen one of these it is a touch-screen automated fountain machine that boasts over 100+ Coca-Cola brand selections. During each visit, in what feels like an excruciating eternity, I will eventually settle on a drink selection after flipping through the entire catalogue several times. This greatly frustrates my accompanying dining party as I am either made fun relentlessly of or told to get out of the way. This may seem funny to you that such an inconsequential decision would be so difficult to make, but for me taking a leap toward the perfect selection from a huge assortment is virtually paralyzing. Too many choices are distracting. Our good choices routine with our son backfires when we allow him to choose an episode of one of his favorite television shows to watch before going to bed. In addition to his decision making development he has also (finally) developed a diverse TV palette beyond Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. He has learned the evil powers of the TV remote and the on-demand capabilities of the DVR. His frequent back-and-forth waffling on what to watch often leads to an unwanted outburst that inevitably delays bedtime. Much like his father in standing front of the Coke Freestyle machine, my son is distracted by too many choices. Some of the biggest fights between my wife and I have not been over money, household chores or child care responsibilities. A number of these conflicts have been over where to go to dinner/get take-out or what movie we want to watch on Netflix. It’s not every day we eat out or take a few hours to relax in front of the TV. We both try way too hard to choose the perfect selection to make it worth our while. Flipping through local restaurants on Google Maps and movies on the Netflix genre guide are eerily similar to the previous dilemma I described with the Zaxby’s Coke machine. Too many choices! I remember as a kid before satellite television we got the four local major network stations (six channels on a clear weather day!) from our roof-top antenna. Show listings were published in a paper TV Guide that came out weekly in the Sunday newspaper. If you missed an episode of your favorite sitcom you would not be able to watch it until it re-aired during the show’s off-season.  In addition, growing up in a small town we had very little selection when it came to dining out. The nearest trendy eateries were a 30 mile drive away. My father was never convinced any meal was worth that far of a drive. Back then food and entertainment selections were made easy due to a lack of choice. Ahh, the good old days. The next time you become frozen in the cereal aisle at the supermarket or break into a cold sweat when flipping through your satellite radio just remember that large selections are intended to make choices easier, not harder. I will try to keep telling myself that the next time I am in front of the Coke Freestyle machine…and I will continue to stand their motionless.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/too-many-choices/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>This I Believe</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/this-i-believe/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/this-i-believe/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 25 Jun 2015 18:00:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kassidy Everard]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Believe]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Cancer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Die]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sad]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Words]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7188</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;I believe that taking your last breath does not mean you are dead. I believe that you die twice; once when you take your last breath, and again when someone whispers your name for the last time.&#8221; &#8211; Banksy When I was 9 years old, my aunt died of cancer. I remember getting the call from my father telling me that she had passed in the night with him by her side. He watched her pass, he watched her take her last breath, and he heard her last words. &#8220;She was turning purple, getting pale in the face, she was dying,&#8221; My dad said. My father had lost his sister that day and I had lost an amazing aunt. I remember visiting her like it was yesterday. She loved to talk. She loved her husband, and she loved her kids. But two years after she died, her husband got cancer. My uncle went blind, he got sicker and sicker. He left a granddaughter behind, two daughters, and three sons. But Aunt Tina did not know. She did not know that her husband would soon be gone, too. Through her chemotherapy there were times when she wished she would die. Her hair was all gone, she lost more than half her original body weight, her cheeks were so sunken in to her face that it looked like she hadn&#8217;t eaten for weeks, and she could hardly walk. Recognizing people close to her even became a struggle. Sadly, sometimes I wished she would go, just so she wouldn&#8217;t feel the pain anymore. Even though it had been a year since I had seen her last, I knew she couldn&#8217;t have looked any better. I knew she was worse, and that the pain was killing her more than the cancer was. I wanted her better, but I knew she wouldn&#8217;t be. After all, it would have been selfish of me to force her through more treatment. I did not go to her funeral. I did not see her die. I wasn&#8217;t allowed to go. My father told me that I wouldn&#8217;t have wanted to go, that I wouldn&#8217;t have wanted to see a dead person. Instead I cried, like anyone would with such a loss. I was nine, and even though I was still a child, I understood. I knew where she had gone. She is where we all end up some day. Maybe that place is called heaven, maybe it isn&#8217;t. But she is in a better place now, where all the pain is gone. She is where we all end up someday. She is also in my heart. She is where she belongs; everywhere and nowhere at once. Aunt Tina is not dead. Uncle Tink is not dead. They are both soft whispers in the mouths of many. Their names have not been said for the last time. They are not dead. This I believe. This I will always believe.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/this-i-believe/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>I&#8217;ve Got 99 Problems, And Now You&#8217;re One.</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/ive-got-99-problems-and-now-youre-one/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/ive-got-99-problems-and-now-youre-one/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 24 Jun 2015 18:00:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anonymous WIRL]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7128</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Today I was texting an old pal of mine asking how summer was going and how he was doing. Our conversation was sweet and innocent until we got into talking about the Charleston shooting. He told me that what had happened was sad, and I agreed, but I also said that that is a part of life. People live and people die. Then he got testy, telling me that life isn&#8217;t killing innocent people. Obviously I agree. I don&#8217;t think I look like the type of person to be insensitive when it comes to death. So, I replied and said, &#8220;No, life is leaving when it is your time. Even if it is on behalf of someone else. We can&#8217;t live forever.&#8221; This person then asked me how I could possibly think that that is the way God intended for them to die. I didn&#8217;t say that, but right after that point I said something else&#8230; I said, &#8220;I am not God, nor do I PERSONALLY believe that there is one. So, this argument would be invalid on my side and yours. But I think people die when they are supposed to.&#8221; I didn&#8217;t think I said anything wrong. In fact, I figured I said what I needed to say in the best possible way. I am a very cut throat and dry person. If I am thinking it, then I will probably say it. But when I say it, it is going to come out EXACTLY how I intend it to. That is something that is neither a blessing or a curse, to say EXACTLY what you&#8217;re thinking. Instead of this person accepting that I have made the choice to not believe in God, he proceeds to tell me that he &#8220;Must say goodbye if I don&#8217;t believe that there is a God.&#8221; Hold on&#8230; Since when is it or was it ever okay to judge someone based on their disbelief in God? I respect the fact that he believes in God, so why is it completely opposite when someone cannot respect the fact that I do not. I replied to him very calmly and said, &#8220;You knew that, But if you shall judge me based on a lack of belief of your God, I then shall be the bigger person and not judge you based on your higher belief in God.&#8221; I have never thought that I could be judged so much with one thing in my life. Not only that, but since when is it wrong to have an opinion? People usually love and respect how blunt I am because it makes it easier to understand what I want and how or when I want it done. I am not writing this to show the world that being religious is wrong or to show the world that not being religious is right. But I am trying to make a point that I am not a different person just because of one belief. In the conversation we had, I didn&#8217;t change from one person to another just in a sentence that said I wasn&#8217;t religious. That didn&#8217;t make me a better person or a worse person. Had he never known, he would have never cared whether I was religious or not because our friendship didn&#8217;t rely on being religious. I find it ironic that there are some people that won&#8217;t accept who you are, yet they expect you to ignore every single one of their faults as if to make yours seem bigger and worse. I&#8217;ve got 99 problems already, and he is now definitely one of them. &#160;]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/ive-got-99-problems-and-now-youre-one/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Song Lyrics Gone Wrong</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/song-lyrics-gone-wrong/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/song-lyrics-gone-wrong/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 19 Jun 2015 17:00:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[WIRL Project]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Comedian]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Funny]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Hilarious]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Karaoke]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lyrics]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Peter Kay]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Song]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Words]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7133</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[You&#8217;ve done it, you know you have. You&#8217;ve completely butchered, or even made up, song lyrics. It&#8217;s okay, it happens to the best of us. Who cares if the words &#8220;make sense&#8221; anyway? The important thing is that they roll off your tongue smoothly. It&#8217;s awesome when you catch someone blatantly singing the wrong words; you laugh, call them out, and then try to put together how they ever came up with that combination in the first place. Like that time your sister thought the first few words to the song Brown Eyed Girl were &#8220;Hey there Rodrigo&#8221; instead of &#8220;Hey, where did we go&#8221; &#8211; yeah, it&#8217;s pretty freaking hilarious! But it&#8217;s a little embarrassing when it&#8217;s you who is fumbling and making things up &#8211; like when you go to karaoke, read the screen, and find out that you&#8217;ve been waaaaay off all this time! WIRL Project wants you to know you&#8217;re not alone and we thought this stand up bit by comedian, Peter Kay, would make you feel at ease. He hilariously highlights some of his most epic song lyric fails. All this time he&#8217;s been singing about bird seed, pot pies, and his massively mistook some of Shaniah Twain&#8217;s song lyrics for something REALLY wrong! Take a few minutes to laugh and relate with Peter as he tells the story of his super funny song lyric fails. &#160; &#160; Do you have any song lyric bloopers? We&#8217;d love to hear them! Share your story in the comments below! &#160;]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/song-lyrics-gone-wrong/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Caitlyn Jenner: What You&#8217;re REALLY Thinking&#8230;</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/caitlyn-jenner-what-youre-really-thinking/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/caitlyn-jenner-what-youre-really-thinking/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 04 Jun 2015 08:30:01 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sara Brennan]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Athlete]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beauty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Caitlyn Jenner]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Man]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Quotes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[support]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Transgender]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Transition]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Vanity Fair]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[What It's Really Like]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Woman]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=6751</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Yes, I said it, Caitlyn Jenner. The former Bruce Jenner has finally physically transitioned and let &#8220;her&#8221; out of the closet making her debut on Vanity Fair magazine earlier this week. Good for him! or her? Right? Or not? Hmmm? Let&#8217;s be real&#8230;we ALL have something to say about this&#8230;EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. US. Even if you say you &#8220;don&#8217;t care&#8221;, there must be a reason why you don&#8217;t care, because EVERYONE else seems to. So, let&#8217;s &#8220;talk&#8221;. I&#8217;ve complied a few Caitlyn Jenner quotes from around the web. Let&#8217;s have this conversation in true WIRL fashion and talk about what we&#8217;re REALLY thinking. You may agree with comment 1, but strongly disagree with comment 5&#8230;let us know how you feel! Remember, no hate language is allowed according to WIRL Code, but, open, honest, genuine thoughts and feelings are, so be thoughtful of your words and WIRL from the heart.  Here&#8217;s how this will work: Read the following 5 comments and watch the video clip that (light heartedly) sheds some light on this subject. Then, in the comment box below, tell us what you think. Pretend this platform is your best friend and say what you would say to that person. Got it? Okay, here we go! Quote 1: “I’m sorry, it’s hard to be ‘proud’ of someone who has had the financial means to achieve unrealistic goals for girls like us”. &#8211; Lilith Gütler (TheGuardian.com) Quote 2: “This is something that has been part of her life — the secret of her life — and now she’s free. God bless you, honey. God bless you.” - Whoopie Goldberg (TheWrap.com) Quote 3: &#8220;Caitlyn, when you were a man, we could talk about your athleticism, business acumen, but now you&#8217;re a woman, and your looks are really the only thing we care about.&#8221; &#8211; Jon Stewart (Mic.com) Quote 4: &#8220;Elective surgery isn&#8217;t courage or bravery&#8230;&#8221; - Kristin @KristinH1998 (Twitter.com) Quote 5: &#8220;I’m totally supportive of people staying true to themselves and finding true happiness in whatever way they can. There are just more things that we as a nation and as a planet should be talking about and working on.&#8221; - Connor Cruise (Hollywoodlife.com) Video Clip: Jon Stewart (Mic.com) The Daily Show Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,The Daily Show on Facebook,Daily Show Video Archive &#160; &#160; So, how do you feel? Which comment or segment of the video caught your attention? Let us know below! Be real and tell us how you REALLY feel&#8230; &#160; *Image source: Vanity Fair]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/caitlyn-jenner-what-youre-really-thinking/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>8</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Officer Down</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/officer-down/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/officer-down/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 28 May 2015 15:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kate Robinson]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[best friend]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[compassion]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friend]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[heather seddon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[high as a kate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[highasakate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[kater79]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Officer]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[officer down]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[People]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Police]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shot]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=6480</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Today is Sunday, May 24, 2015. The weather is overcast and cool, and it’s definitely one of those days where the video games will get a lot of use…. Funny thing – this was also the case exactly one week ago. May 17, 2015. It was overcast and cool, and a Sunday much like so many others. The kids were playing downstairs, and I was hiding out in my room for a few minutes just to clear my mind before the mundane tasks of motherhood took over and I was forced to play second fiddle to everyone elses’ needs. Then my phone rang. Now, anyone and everyone who knows me knows how much I LOATHE speaking on the phone. 1996 Kate? Loved it. 2015 Kate? Not so much. But the person on caller ID just so happens to be one of my favorite men on the planet, so I answered. “Hey, Kate. What are you doing?” “Nothing – just sitting on the toilet.” “Okay, well I’m glad you’re sitting down, because Heather was just shot, and she’s on her way to the hospital.” In that moment, I knew I wasn’t fully processing what I was hearing. It couldn’t be. Not in a million years. Not Heather. NO. No, no, no, no, no. I immediately went into “Robot Mode”. “Okay – where is she now?” “She’s at the hospital, in surgery. The hospital is on lockdown, so when you get here, call me and I’ll get you in.” See, I’m not a police officer. I am what police like to refer to as, “a civilian.” Call me whatever the hell you want – just let me see my friend. Now Heather – Heather is a police officer, and a damned fine one at that. The department is lucky to have her, and even though she may not patrol my neighborhood, I still feel safe knowing that officers of her caliber are out there, putting themselves in harm’s way in order to make our city as safe as it can be. I know there has been a lot of tension in recent months or even years with regards to law enforcement, but let me be perfectly clear. This post has really nothing to do with that. This post is about two friends. From the first moment I met Heather, years ago, something clicked. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I knew the second we met that we’d be friends for life. And I was right. We text almost every day, tag each other in silly Instagram posts and send each other ridiculous memes in long text threads involving at least three other people at all times. She’s my “go-to” when I’m having a bad day, and she’s my “go-to” when I’m having a wonderful day. But it’s not just Heather who is amazing. Her family is amazing. Her mom and dad are hilarious, and two of the kindest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. At parties I have had the opportunity to meet many of her co-workers, and I have to say… most police officers are pretty fun to hang out with when not in uniform. I will admit that, as a civilian, I can’t help but feel a little bit like an outsider when we are all together; after all, I have no idea what it’s like to put your life on the line, every single day and/or night, for strangers who more often than not, seem to want to point out your failures as an officer, rather than praise you for being as close to a superhero as superheroes get. Not to mention, sometimes someone will make a joke, and then you’ll hear a resounding, “now THAT’s what I call a 1086 or a Code 5911, etc.” or whatever cop jargon they use, and then I just look around the room thinking, “I need to get a cheat sheet for this crap.” Now, back to May 17. As I sped down the freeway, yes… I SPED, I didn’t know what to think. Was she dead? Was she paralyzed? Would she ever be the same? I thought about her fiancé, the buddy who’d called me. I thought about her mom and dad and brother and all of her fellow officers whom I’d met. I felt numb and utterly helpless, and I cannot, for the life of me, think of a worse feeling than that of feeling utterly helpless; unable to say or do anything to improve or change the circumstances in which you find yourself. When I finally reached the hospital, I was taken aback by all the police cruisers, cars and just men and women in uniform literally protecting her from any outsiders. It was a marvelous, albeit, stressful sight. I was overcome with pride and happiness that she worked with so many good men and women who love and care for her as much as the rest of us do. I can’t begin to try to imagine what it would be like, as a fellow officer, to see someone you put your life on the line with every day in such unknown circumstances – but at that moment, I couldn’t even think. I just needed to see her. Immediately. As I approached a group of officers in and out of uniform, I asked if I could go in with them so I could see her. I already knew her room number – I wasn’t exactly a stranger. One of the officers looked at me suspiciously and said, “You know Heather?” My response? “Well, I’m going to be a bridesmaid at her wedding, so I sure hope so.” I know my sarcastic humor couldn’t have been more ill-timed, but laughter is how I deal with most things. If I’m not laughing – I’m crying, and there was no way in hell I was going to let her see me upset – she was my hero, and now it was my time to be hers. I was escorted into the waiting room where I was greeted by 20-30 police officers. Some in uniform – others not. Greeted might be a strong word, since the room was cold and tense. To say I was intimidated would be a hugely gross understatement. I scanned the room and only recognized two officers, and was receiving suspicious glances from everyone else. I didn’t blame them. The waiting room had a level of tension I had never experienced before. Of course, I had also never been in this situation before. Obviously, many of the police officers there remained stoic and poised. I, on the other hand, didn’t know what to do. So I sat down and loudly stated, “For the record, nobody has permission to check my purse or my trunk.” (sigh) I don’t know what I was thinking…. I just couldn’t handle all the serious tension. We were ALL helpless at that point, so might as well break the ice in the only way I knew how. It was well-received by some, and by others? Not so much. On the bright side, I had the opportunity to speak to many of her fellow officers, and I was able to meet many new and wonderful people whom I know I will see again and greet with hugs. Now, before I reached the hospital, I already knew the details of what had happened to her and when I arrived, I was able to get an update about her condition. And I can now definitively say, with 100% certainty, that the media has no clue what the hell they are doing or talking about. They couldn’t get the information they wanted, so they made up whatever they thought would attract the most attention. It’s sad, really. I just sat there, waiting for hours, just hoping to see her face and let her know that I was here. I even brought dumb magazines to keep her company, but after three hours of waiting, we were told by the hospital staff that we had to leave. Not just civilians – everyone, except for the officers on duty protecting her. I saw her fiancé, hugged him, and asked him to please make sure he let her know that I was there, even if I couldn’t see her. He assured me he would, so I gave one of the officers on duty the magazines, and I went home. When I came back the next morning to see her, I ran into one of her fellow officers in her cruiser and asked if I could sit with her for a minute before I went in. As we sat in the car talking, something most unexpected happened. An African-American man cleaning up the garbage around the hospital approached the officer’s window and said something I will never, ever forget. He said, “Hello, Officer. How’s your friend doing? I really am praying for her and a good recovery.” Then he said, “Listen, I wanted you to know something. I live in a very bad part of town – I guess you’d call it the ‘hood&#8217;, and most of my family and neighbors are in gangs and involved in drugs and stuff, and I know that there’s been a lot of stuff going on and being said in the media about cops and blacks, but I have not heard one single person make light or laugh at your friend’s situation. No one is cheering. No one is clapping. No one is celebrating.” That really got to me. I had no idea one man’s comment could put so many things into perspective. See, Heather is not just a police officer. She is a human being. She is someone’s daughter. She is someone’s sister. She is someone’s friend. She is someone’s fiancee. She is someone. It is so easy to forget in times of strife and evolution, that at our core, we are all people. That man didn’t know her. He didn’t know her name. He didn’t know the details. All he knew, was that she was hurt and he was praying for her. It was as simple as that. It is so easy to forget in times of strife and evolution, that at our core, we are all people. I wish we, as a society, could look past the uniform, and realize that yes, there are police officers out there who give others a bad wrap, especially the ones who give me tickets for having tinted windows on my minivan, but take the uniform off and we are all just people. And people need each other. And when someone so close to you comes thisclose to losing their life, it really makes you resent all the negativity pointed at these heroes we so easily take for granted. It has now been one week since Heather was shot. Looking back, and after speaking with someone I love, it was made apparent to me that having my tallest best friend shot and almost die was essentially a perfect storm of all of my worst fears and anxieties coming at me at once. I wasn’t able to eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even be a mom – I was so wrapped up in the hailstorm, and now, a week later, I’m finally starting to feel normal again. And that is mostly due to my hero, Heather. God love her. She’s the one who reassured me that she would be ok. She and her fiancé are the ones who held me when I went to their house and laid on her lap and cried. She is the one who continued to smile and put me at ease, even though she’s the one who took a bullet. She was there for me when I wanted to be there for her, and if THAT isn’t the definition of a hero, then I don’t know what is. I want the WORLD to know what an amazing woman, friend and police officer she is, and San Diego is lucky as hell to have her. I love you, Heather. You are my hero. You are everyone’s hero. ~ Your Shortest BFF]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/officer-down/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>What Blogging is REALLY Like</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/what-blogging-is-really-like/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/what-blogging-is-really-like/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 May 2015 16:00:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Guest WIRL]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Style/Beauty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Technology/Web]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL Challenge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[advice]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beauty]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beauty blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beauty blogger]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beginner blogger]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blog ideas]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blog post]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blogging]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Funny]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[leaf]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[newbie]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[passion]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[WIRL Blogging]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=6541</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[What is blogging REALLY like? An addiction. I mean, it&#8217;s a &#8220;good&#8221; kind of addiction… but it still takes over your life. You&#8217;re out for a walk and see a cute boutique… Potential blog post? That cupcake you treated yourself to after lunch was super tasty… Blog post! A leaf falls off of a tree and lands softly on the sidewalk… YES, there is definitely a blog post in there somewhere because why are leaves falling off trees in the end of May? Time to get educated. Everything you see and do is automatically filtered through a blogger mindset – can this be revamped to go on the blog?  If you thought you were social media-addicted before, just wait &#8217;til you start a blog that you want the online community to notice. Hello, shameless self-promotion. You&#8217;ll be posting more than you ever thought you would post and doing a ridiculous amount of networking and taking sooooo many pictures because who ever thought you would have to take 100 pictures before you got that angle that&#8217;s just PERFECT? And sometimes it&#8217;s 1000 but, hey, #DoItForTheBlog. As a blogger, my head is always spinning with ideas, so much so that I could not live without a planner, and I know many bloggers who would say the same thing. Gotta write that stuff down before my head gets too full and thoughts start escaping! Blogging is way harder than people think because, if you want to excel at it, you will need skills in photography, writing (especially grammar! Like, please stop confusing your/you&#8217;re, people. You&#8217;re better than that.), business, networking, social media and so much more. I know firsthand that it can be overwhelming and I debated closing my account at the beginning, because no hobby should be this much work. I&#8217;m just not passionate enough, I told myself. But I was lying. Blogging is what I was born to do. And I haven&#8217;t even told you the best part! Bloggers (for the most part) are not all in competition with each other – they are so so supportive! Bloggers help each other out and broadcast opportunities and follow back and will definitely let you know if you&#8217;re doing a super awesome job. No cute detail goes unnoticed. So, yes, my head is spinning with new post ideas and blogging opportunities 24/7 and it takes up about 200% of my free time, but I found my passion and you know what they say (cheesy quote alert) – when you do what you love, you&#8217;ll never have to work a day in your life. Love, Erin from erinfinity.com &#160; Join the conversation! Easily contribute your story here with the tag “WIRL Blogging”. &#160; About the Author… This WIRL was contributed by Erin Hesselink. She is a beauty/DIY/lifestyle blogger from Canada and  loves to connect with people. WARNING: She think she&#8217;s pretty hilarious (direct quote from Erin herself!). She can be found at her website, on Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, and Instagram. &#160; &#160; &#160;]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/what-blogging-is-really-like/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
