tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79587279466734924392024-03-21T07:37:06.775-07:00My Emotional Roller-coasteriheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-13059225177580888932013-01-18T03:00:00.002-08:002013-01-18T03:00:52.270-08:00Only Memories of Love Letters<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Journal entry of a pregnant woman with insomnia.</b></span><div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Monday July 6, 2009</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I can't sleep as usual. So I turned on the T.V. I ended up watching the movie The Jane Austen Book Club. It was a decent movie. Towards the end of the movie they talk about how in many of Jane Austen's books, she would have a profound letter written by one of the main characters. It got me thinking of when Wolfy and I used to write letters to each other. Letters in high school when all we seemed to write about was silly teenager things. Classes, parents, sports, and yada yada yada. I still loved getting them. It wasn't so much what the letters were about, but the fact that he actually took the time to write them. For years we would write letters back and forth to each other and every time I would always get butterflies before opening up an envelope from him. We were apart so much we must have written hundreds of letters. Letters when I was in college, when he was in military boot camp, when he was in military schooling. I used to stalk the mail box wherever I was just waiting for a letter. I miss it. Seeing his little man scribbles on the page. And no matter what random topic he was writing about he always ended the letter with something so romantic and loving that it just melted my heart. I never ever got tired of getting his letters. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Unfortunately, staying in a house where there is completely no privacy, I realized some one had been snooping through my letter box. I wish I hadn't... but I decided to trash all my letters. It was so hard. All those letters. All the things that he wrote to me. I had to rip up a letter one by one. I made sure to read them all one more time before I did though. But of course my memory fails me and now I can't remember a single word from those letters. I don't have a wonderful little box of memories to go back to. They were proof of how wonderful young love was. How much we had been through over the years. I only remember that they existed. But just thinking back and knowing that they did exist, make me fall in love with Wolfy all over again. </i></span></div>
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iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-7593880084956501902013-01-16T00:10:00.001-08:002013-01-16T00:10:21.471-08:00The Twilight Saga Made Me Want To Burst...<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This was my last journal entry for the year 2008. Even though this is two months later than the last entry I posted, it still sounds much the same. </span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Wednesday December 31, 2008</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Something is wrong with me. I feel like there is something inside me that wants to burst and I don't know how to free it. It's making me antsy. So anxious that I thought that maybe writing in here would help me clear my head. I haven't had the urge to write in here in a while. But now my hand is cramping up.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Funny how the date says New Year's Eve and I don't mention anything about the new year or the end of the year for that matter. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Anyway besides those two depressing little journal entries, I remember 2008 for other things. In November 2008 I started reading the Twilight Saga Books by Stephenie Meyer. It may sound silly but I found myself falling in love with my husband even more. Wolfy and I are High School sweethearts. I was a head over heels in love teenager. That is what helped me relate to the love story of Edward and Bella. Needless to say, when Wolfy took care of the kids so I could read, he got lucky a little more often than usual. *wink, wink*</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Which is why I had to laugh when I read "</b><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I feel like there is something inside me that wants to burst</i><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">" and looked at the date. Because I didn't know it at the time, but I was pregnant! If you think that is funny, I was pregnant with twins! </b><b style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Talk about something inside of me wanting to burst out...lol. </b></span><br />
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iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-77948277998518020262013-01-14T03:15:00.003-08:002013-01-14T03:15:55.608-08:00I Once Was Lost, But Now...<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">...Who am I kidding, in a way I will always be a little lost. However now I am thinking and acting like a different person. Crazy how things have changed since I wrote this in one of my journals.</span></b><br />
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<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">October 20, 2008 1:43 am</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Have you ever felt like you were at a crossroads in your life and you don't know what the hell is going on? I feel like change is coming. Either I need change or things will change for me. I don't know what the heck I'm doing. What am I missing? Am I missing something? I just can't get it. I can be very intuitive when it comes to other people, but I'm a frickin' mess in my own head. What am I doing? Lately I've just made such horrible choices and it's only because I've knowingly been stupid or just plain lazy. My misfortune is a direct effect of my laziness or air headed-ness lately. What is wrong with me? I don't know. I wish I knew. Is it church? Do I need to go to church more? I'm sure I need more God in my life. Is it work? Am I not working enough? I'm exhausted every day, but I feel like I'm not doing anything worthwhile. Is it my weight? But of course that's one thing but not the only thing. What is it!?! I'm going to drive myself crazy thinking. </span></i><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rereading this I think I sound like a teenager instead of a grown woman with 3 kids. Or if you didn't know me (or haven't read my posts about my hubby "Wolfy"), it sounds like I was in an unhappy marriage. LOL! Sorry to say this story is not that juicy. It's weird though how I couldn't get myself out of this funk. But from the thoughts in my head onto the paper, it's obvious I was very negative towards myself. But these past couple of years have been years of change for me. Changing my attitude. And I didn't even know I was doing it. God sure does work in mysterious ways. </span></b><br />
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iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-90331725338294808002012-12-28T16:14:00.000-08:002012-12-28T16:15:04.782-08:00Les Miserables 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTQ4NDI3NDg4M15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMjY5OTI1OA@@._V1._SY317_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTQ4NDI3NDg4M15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMjY5OTI1OA@@._V1._SY317_.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All I need to say about this movie is, GO SEE IT! It is worth it, and hands down the best movie I have EVER seen. Yes I did say "Best Movie I've Ever Seen". I realize that is a huge statement, but I'm okay with it. Even if I didn't love musicals I would have loved this movie for the story, the acting, and the music. If you watch anything new to end the year, watch Les Miserables the Movie Musical. </span></b><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/OSjbdufL828?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-55745471882746193612012-11-12T16:48:00.000-08:002012-11-12T16:48:21.048-08:00The Invitation - Oriah<table bgcolor="#FFFFFF" border="0" cellpadding="0" id="table25" style="border-collapse: collapse; text-align: left; width: 631px;"><tbody>
<tr><td colspan="3" height="48" style="text-align: left;" width="560"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Invitation</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer</span><br /></td><td rowspan="2" style="text-align: left;" valign="top" width="20"></td></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: left;" valign="top" width="51"></td><td valign="top" width="385"><div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>It doesn't interest me what you do for a living</i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: large;"><i>I want to know what you ache for</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">It doesn't interest me how old you are</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">for love</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">for your dreams</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">for the adventure of being alive.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">if you have been opened by life's betrayals</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">or have become shrivelled and closed</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">from fear of further pain.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you can sit with pain</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">mine or your own</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">without moving to hide it</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">or fade it</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">or fix it.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you can be with joy</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">mine or your own</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">if you can dance with wildness</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">fingers and toes</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">without cautioning us to</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">be careful</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">be realistic</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">to remember the limitations of being human.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">is true.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you can</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">disappoint another</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">to be true to yourself.</span></div>
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</i></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>If you can bear the accusation of betrayal</i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"></span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: large;"><i>and not betray your own soul.</i></span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">If you can be faithless</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">and therefore trustworthy.</span></div>
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</i></span><br />
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</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I want to know if you can see Beauty</i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"></span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: large;"><i>even when it is not pretty</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">every day.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">And if you can source your own life</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">from its presence.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you can live with failure</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">yours and mine</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">and still stand on the edge of the lake</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">and shout to the silver of the full moon,</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">"</span><span style="background-color: transparent;">Yes</span><span style="background-color: transparent;">."</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">It doesn't interest me</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">to know where you live or how much money you have.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you can get up</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">after a night of grief and despair</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">weary and bruised to the bone</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">and do what needs to be done</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">to feed the children.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">It doesn't interest me who you know</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">or how you came to be here.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know if you will stand</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">in the center of the fire</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">with me</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">and not shrink back.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">you have studied.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">I want to know what sustains you</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">from the inside</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;">when all else falls away.</span></div>
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</i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>I want to know if you can be alone</i></span></span></div>
</div>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"></span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: large;"><i>with yourself</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>
</i><div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><i>and if you truly like the company you keep</i></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><i>in the empty moments.</i></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">© 1995 by Oriah House, From "Dreams Of Desire"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: magenta; font-size: large;">Published by Mountain Dreaming, 300 Coxwell Avenue, Box 22546, Toronto, Ontario, Canada </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">from- </span><span style="background-color: transparent;">http://www.inspirationpeak.com/poetry/theinvitation.html</span></span></div>
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iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-44344976064317951562012-11-02T06:36:00.003-07:002012-11-02T06:39:09.237-07:00This is My Happy Place<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Aahh, this is my happy place. Reading Blogs that I love, fresh coffee in the mug, and even a homemade oatmeal cookie. I miss this. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm a complex person. I have more than just one side to me. I love being a mother and a homemaker. But the athlete in me needs some time to play too. No, I'm not actually playing volleyball anymore, but I coach. So I've been off the Blog for months now. My season is over, so I get time to do the little things. Bust mostly I've missed baking, blogging, and reading. I've been doing a lot of reading, just not any of the hoards of books I have stacked up in my bookcase and my closet. I appreciate these little things much more when I haven't had the time or energy to do them. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But I won't have the time for long. I'm coaching another season this coming January. I was a bit scared to take on boys team, and to take on another season of busy-ness in my home. Especially after dropping the ball with some of the things I was suppose to remember to do for my kids. That was a low point for me. My kids are first and foremost my priority. So when I forgot to sign my kids up for free tutoring because I missed the deadline. I then proceeded to sit in my car and cry. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The day before I had just been offered a coaching position and I was on cloud nine. But I dropped down pretty quick when I realized I am slacking off in the Mommy department. I even contemplated NOT taking the job at all. I was making all kinds of excuses to stay home and do the easy thing. Just be a stay at home mom. But, I realized it was my fear talking. And a little bit of laziness too. This coming season will require a lot more out of me. Better organization in the dinner department, homework with the kids, and house cleaning duties. Not to mention potty training the twins. And none of this includes the time I have to put in for volleyball. Planning practice, actual practice, and admin duties. This scares me. I'm not the type of person who likes being busy. I'm naturally chill and laid back, so this scares me. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But...</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My two older kids love me coaching. They come to my practices and games and they love it. They meet my team and they love it. They hit the balls over the net and they have a ball. They watch me coach and just smile. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm scared. I don't want to be this busy Mom that drops the ball on her kids. But I also love it when my daughter sees me doing something that I love. I want my son to see me speaking in front of groups of people and know that someday he can do the same without being so nervous. I want them to hear me yelling at my team "Don't give up!" and know that I don't just say these things to them. But mostly I want them to be proud of me. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The thing is, at this age, my kids are always proud of me. So, I'll enjoy it while it lasts. Teenage years have not invaded my home yet. Wish me luck, and as always prayers are always appreciated. </span></b><br />
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-73158448158623465172012-09-07T23:29:00.000-07:002012-09-07T23:29:02.815-07:00Sleep escapes me...<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Another Youtube night. And No, if you're wondering, I have no life. And I'm really okay with that. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Meet Melanie a stay at home mum from somewhere in the UK. This is her audition for XFactor UK 2012. When I watched this I thought of all the Mothers out there. The kind that are willing to sacrifice everything for their children. Even if it meant putting a God given talent on the back burner. Because when we have children, nothing in the world seems more important than living for them. Check out what Melanie has been hiding. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Coach John Wooden is my coaching idol. He is everything I ever want to be as a coach. Not because of his success but for the kind of man he was. Hands down the best coach EVER, in my opinion. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If you know who Joel Osteen is you know that people either like him or they think he is absolutely cookoo. I actually think both. I like his message most of the time, but I do think he's a little weird. If you are married, and have some time, you should <i>listen</i> to this really long excerpt (28 min audio only) from one of his sermons on love between a husband and wife. It's funny, awkward, and a little controversial</span></b><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">(sex talk from a Pastor lol)</span></b><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">. I don't agree with all of it, but I do have to admit it gave me a lot to think about. </span></b></div>
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iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-12633132058803730652012-08-23T13:32:00.001-07:002012-08-23T23:19:29.019-07:00My Sexy Man Reader Husband <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">It's finally here! The book trailer to When Water Burns. The second book in the Telesa Trilogy by Lani Wendt Young. A big O for Owesome to Jordan Kwan! I love it. I can't stop watching it. Yes, I've already read the book, but I still love how the trailer will suck in new readers. Including my husband, Wolfy.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Yup my hubby is reading Telesa the first book. He's almost done. I stopped bugging him about his promise to give the book a chance earlier this year. He said it was hard to constantly read about another man's abs and not be turned off to the book. hahaha Which I understood, but I still wanted him to read it. So I don't know what happened but he picked up the book again last night and almost finished it. If he hadn't had to go to sleep for work he would have finished it. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">But before he slept we just laid in bed talking about Daniel, Jason, Leila, and the sisterhood. </span></b><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Wolfy- I'm almost done! </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Me- Really, what part are you on?</span></b></i><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Wolfy- Leila just moved out of Nafanua's house. Man I have a bad feeling. I hope nothing happens to her Aunt and uncle. </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Me- Ooh it's getting good now huh.</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Wolfy- Yea, it's a really good story. Man I feel bad for Daniel. I don't like that Jason dude.</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Me- Aww but I kind of like Jason</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Wolfy- Heck no! I feel Bad for Daniel. He loves her so much but just hasn't really said it. Now this Jason guy? (shakes his head) I know how Daniel feels. </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Me- 0_0 Oh. Yea you're right Babe (was all I could manage) </span></b></i><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Sorry ladies this one is MINE!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">My husband has never been more sexier to me than at that moment. When he's reading a book that I love just for me. And then he even wants to talk to me about it. If I wasn't married to this man already, I would be eloping with him as soon as I could. LOL </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How awesome is my Wolfy! </span></b><br />
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-22892028884509000692012-08-09T01:52:00.001-07:002012-08-10T14:43:41.968-07:0050 shades of ...No Thank You<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>My random ranting during my reading of the first book of the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy.</i></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">BIG TIME SPOILER ALERTS!</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Americans don't say "cinemas" we go to the movies. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Who lives in the Pacific Northwest and hates coffee?! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Drunk dialing. hehe Whoa, Christian is cookoo!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Red Room of Pain - Not my cup of Twinings tea</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Ironic that his name is "Christian"</span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Christian Grey is a sick man with too much money. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Control Freak, Sex Addict, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Kinky freak! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">More like 80 shades of effed up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Did there really have to be a whole chapter dedicated to the submissive contract? I didn't even read it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Skipping over until the contract is done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ana's inner goddess/devil vs. her subconscious was really annoying. Inner goddess dialogue and updates start getting unnecessary and then completely annoying. No use for them</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Twilight regurgitation of "do I dazzle you" dialogue </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So many women swooning over this man. In reality wouldn't their relationship be considered an abusive relationship? Christian wanting Ana to be submissive, using sex to distract her from her real feelings, unnecessary gifts, and speaking to her so disrespectfully. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His mood swings. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Anna is scared of him when he's angry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All this "you are mine" possessive language. Okay Smeagol she's your Precious, we get it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As soon as sex is over it's like he's done with a business transaction. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And obviously his need to punish her with a hiding/spanking if she angered him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Swoon? I think Not! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Too much Holy Cow! Holy Shit! Holy (fill in the blank) every other paragraph almost.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And yet somebody please tell the author to put the Thesaurus down!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I just can't get over how Christian is so demeaning!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ana knows in her head and in her heart that she shouldn't be with him, but she folds so easily. So weak!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Christian is like a sex robot. "I'm going to f*** you now." (robotic voice)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I keep thinking "what an A hole" when Christian is talking in the Red Room for the first time w/ Ana.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I get the heebie geebies when she describes the way he looks at her. Creepy Creeperson!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Perchance to dream"? Does the author throw those lines in as an inside joke or something? A line from hamlet in the middle of a Red Room convo after sex. Strange. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rolling my eyes (oops Christian doesn't like that) Whatever!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Go Flog yourself Christian.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Christian - Future Wife Beater</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Every time Christian comments on her beautiful skin I can't help but to think of Silence of the Lambs and the Skin suit. Ew Ew Ew!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I know the author is British and the character Ana is a fan of British Literature but... "prevailed upon". Come on who speaks like that anymore? Maybe the Royal family I guess. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Talk about emotional roller coaster. More like emotional rocket ride. Blast off... then the engine fails. Then it starts up again... just to fail again. Ugh! I catch myself thinking aww that was sweet of Christian, then he says something completely vulgar. ugh buzz kill. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Then he does something and I think aww see he has a heart, well I guess a heart of steel more like it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Come on I think he does love her, oh no wait he just wants to F*** her brains out. How romantic. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wow King Stalker this guy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Well that was gross. Period sex...eek!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Okay so he was a crack baby, or his mom was a crack whore. I still don't really feel sorry for him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Oh no she's asking for the full throttle in the Red Room. Don't do it! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I told you so! Dummy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Finally Ana tells him off! Leave him girl, you better leave his crazy ass! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I don't like the fact that I didn't want Ana to be with Christian. Why am I reading this if I'm hoping for the couple to break up? Depressing. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Things I did like.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Taylor - So loyal</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kate - Ana should have listened to Kate!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Grace - Christian's mother</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I love their email exchanges when Ana is in Georgia.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I love Ana's Dad Ray. I adore her Mother Carla!</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Oh well if you can't guess by now I didn't enjoy the book. Thankfully I convinced my cousin to just give me a synopsis of the rest of the books so I don't have to waste my time reading them. No big deal. Good for what it is, 80% humping, 10% Submissive contracts and negotiations, 10% story. </i></span><br />
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-13506061634120440642012-08-01T02:10:00.000-07:002012-08-09T01:58:04.184-07:00Best Efforts<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I tell this to my kids all the time...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If you are going to do something, ALWAYS and ONLY give it your BEST effort.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Actually I tell my Volleyball players the same thing. If you are going to show up, you better show up and give me 100%. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm a Coach, so it is not in me to say I don't mind losing. Because I absolutely hate it! But if it's one thing I hate more than losing, is losing because we didn't give our best effort. I believe that if my players play to the best of their abilities and then some, and still lose, then we lost to the better team. No shame in that at all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Every time the Olympics come around I am reminded why I love sports. Not so much by the big Goliath champion gold medal winners, but by the little unknown countries who SHOW UP and give it their best for their countries. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Like Maureen Tuimalealiifano of Team Samoa. She competed in the individual Women's Archery event in London. After the preliminary ranking round Maureen was ranked #63 out of 64. Which meant that her first opponent would be in the higher ranking countries. And who does she get? The archer from South Korea who is ranked #2. But #1 ranking was also from South Korea. The same South Korean team of archers that won the Gold medal just a couple of days before. (And every year before that since the event was introduced into the summer Olympics) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Even though she was defeated I respect her so much for just showing up and giving an olympic effort for our little island nation. I am also immensely proud of how she carried herself and how she just always looked so happy and honored to be at the Games. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Check her out channeling her inner Katniss Everdeen. ;) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.420912151292551.108263.420341684682931&type=3" target="_blank">Thank You Team Samoa Facebook page for providing pictures of this event! </a></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And what about Eric Moussambani dubbed "Eric the Eel" of the 2000 Sydney Olympics. Representing Equitorial Guinea in a swimming heat of only 3 swimmers. The other two swimmers were disqualified due to false starts, so Eric is left to complete the heat alone. Just him. Eight lanes and he was the only swimmer in the pool. He struggled to finish since he had never before seen an Olympic sized pool before that day, and he had just learned some techniques from the American swim team just two days before. But he showed up and he finished. In the record books he is listed as the winner of his first and only Olympic swim race. </span></div>
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<a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2012/07/31/sport/olympics-2012-eric-eel-moussambani/index.html" target="_blank">original story from cnn</a> </div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"> In 1992, while watching the Barcelona Olympic track races, </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">I distinctly remember bawling my eyes out when I was watching this race live on television. Derek Redmond of Great Britain tore his hamstring before he could finish his 400 meter race. I can't imagine the feelings he was going through, but he got up and started hopping his way towards the finish line. And then his father comes from the stands and helps his son in his emotional finish of the race that had already ended. This moment in the Olympics was used by the Olympic Committee and Visa as an example of the Olympic spirit, and for Nike in their series of Courage ads. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My sister asked me who won the gold in the last Olympics for Women's Volleyball. I couldn't even tell her. In the end I remember the little people and their stories. I remember the losers and their Olympic spirit. Hopefully my kids understand what I mean one day. "Oh that's why Mom always told us to always do our best." Because nothing of quality ever comes from giving a half ass effort. </span></div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-56487180752201784802012-07-17T13:05:00.000-07:002012-07-18T09:54:22.930-07:00Don't judge my knowledge by my fitness<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>As a mother of five and a coach, I get the looks all the time. You know those looks like, "She's the coach? But she doesn't look like a coach?" What the hell does that have to do with what I know about volleyball? I absolutely love the game, I played the game for years, and I love learning even more about coaching everyday. Just because I don't look like a fitness junkie doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. It means I've had five kids and I put them first and unfortunately don't have all the time in the world to work out everyday. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Yup that's the skinny me. Oh how I wish I could still be that fit again. But that was ages ago. I'm a mother now, and I'm not obsessed with trying to get back to that size because that's just not me anymore. I have more important things to worry about. And yes I desperately need to work out more often, but I don't let it consume me. Okay so I bake too much too. I just have to accept it for now and try to find the time to get healthy and not worry so much about being skinny. </b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">That's me now. Chubby face and all. And I couldn't find a full body picture because I don't like taking them and I'm usually hiding behind my kids on purpose. hehe Nope I don't look like an athletic coach AT ALL. But j<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">ust shut up, wait and see. And suck it when you realize that the shape of my body has nothing to do with my knowledge of the game.</span> </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Peace out! </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-21319133862037140522012-07-12T20:11:00.000-07:002012-07-12T21:33:11.471-07:00Move over Ezra Taylor, you are not my Daniel.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7L1rbZZycHqG-731fpchLJnRo756CzC7gRtI6t9zr8bjUzNyJM3fTAAJpr8zHdvWDwLCgKKn_JfgEfUlclH4Ek6RTyYY9O_qWVB4iV1gsCLdrHQMA0hadvtW5-tc9Q7j9FqSlfp6MLJ1/s1600/sleepless5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7L1rbZZycHqG-731fpchLJnRo756CzC7gRtI6t9zr8bjUzNyJM3fTAAJpr8zHdvWDwLCgKKn_JfgEfUlclH4Ek6RTyYY9O_qWVB4iV1gsCLdrHQMA0hadvtW5-tc9Q7j9FqSlfp6MLJ1/s320/sleepless5.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>This is Ezra Taylor, as if most of us Telesa fans didn't already know. But if you don't know what <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q" target="_blank">Telesa </a>is, or who Ezra Taylor is...Helloooo! Where ya been? Get with the program and read the first two books of the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q" target="_blank">Telesa </a>Trilogy by Lani Wendt Young!(click on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q" target="_blank">Telesa</a> for the link)</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>When I first saw this photo before I read Telesa The Covenant Keeper, I thought wow this dude is cute! But for some reason when I read through the book the first time I just never really pictured Ezra as Daniel. I don't know what happened. Daniel in my head was never Ezra. Same thing with my sister who just finished reading Telesa, and When Water Burns. But she said Ezra is not cute. WHAAATT! Back it up, hold up, check your makas (eyes) girlfriend!! One thing he is not is ugly. hahaha He's just not my Daniel, doesn't mean he isn't handsome. I'm not blind sheesh!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>If you haven't heard I am a fan of Kane Thompson of Manu Samoa and Chiefs. <span style="background-color: white;">And by fan I mean stalker. ha! j/k But he's not my Daniel either. I just like looking at him. And I wanted to upload photos of him for no reason.</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: white;">But he happens to be on the same rugby union team as...</span></b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.sportpix.co.nz/albums/uploads/Rugby/2012%20Investec%20Super%20Rugby/20120525%20Chiefs%20v%20Bulls/normal_KAB_0175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.sportpix.co.nz/albums/uploads/Rugby/2012%20Investec%20Super%20Rugby/20120525%20Chiefs%20v%20Bulls/normal_KAB_0175.jpg" width="232" /></b></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-auto;">My Daniel who is more like this beautiful creature </span><a href="http://www.espnscrum.com/newzealand/rugby/player/15236.html" style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-auto;" target="_blank">Richard Kahui</a><span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-auto;">.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Yes yes, he's not even Samoan or Tongan. <span style="background-color: white;">I believe he's Maori and European but not sure. </span><span style="background-color: white;">Whatever it's my imagination I can make him whatever I want. So he's my Daniel Tahi. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>I watched this video on youtube a while back and that sort of sealed the deal for me. If it's one thing women love is man that can make them laugh.(at least for me it is) And I seriously almost peed my pants. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Oh my gosh, I was dying when they started singing Celine Dion! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Anyway, Ezra is the official face of Daniel, but not when I read Telesa. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Off to read When Water Burns...Again. Happy reading! </b></span><br />
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-57449541887188209762012-07-08T00:56:00.002-07:002013-01-03T01:11:27.090-08:00Confessions of a Cry Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I should change my Blog title to "Diary of a Cry Baby". Geez I'm so darn emotional lately it's sickening even to myself. Okay let me see, last month I cried in a grocery store. That was a new one for me. Fast forward to today I cried in the waiting room of car repair shop. There are no boundaries to my tears. Ugh, I hate that I can't control it. I have literally, for as long as I can remember, tried and tried again to control my emotions so that I'm not tearing up at every little sob story, elderly couple, or sad movie. But I just can't. I CAN'T! Okay so I sound like a weirdo with the whole crying at the auto repair shop. So here is what happened.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I woke up early to get to the auto repair shop so that I wouldn't have to wait too long for a simple oil change. But I stayed up too late, as usual, and had to drag myself out of bed. I got to the shop a little later than I wanted, and ended up having to wait for customers who arrived before me. I didn't mind though because I packed my book to read just in case. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The book, The Rescue, by Nicholas Sparks. Strange how I started reading this book. My son Coby, who has language delay and is technically diagnosed as "at risk for Autism", likes to mess up my books on my book shelf. One day after Coby had thrown down all my books from my shelf I picked up the book, The Rescue, and started to read. And what is the story about? A Mother and her son with language delays, like my son. Right away, I was pulled in just from her experiences with trying to find a diagnosis for her son and why he wasn't talking. So anyway, I felt like I was meant to read this story. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So after a sleep deprived night, I'm waiting at the auto repair shop, reading my book. The beginning of the book starts out with the Mother getting in to a car crash, and her son wanders away from the scene of the crash. Right away she is freaking out especially because she knows that she can call his name to high heaven, but he wouldn't answer back. Long story short, small town heroes come to the rescue and search for hours for her son. Finally one of the rescuers finds her son. And the boy who doesn't talk, looks at the man, and says "Hewwo"(hello). He runs up to the man and wraps his arms around the man's neck. The man so overcome by exhaustion and the joy of finding the boy, tears up as he held the little boy. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">And that did it. A lost, special needs boy, found by a local hero, and says "Hewwo" like my son Coby says "Hewwo" and I was fighting back tears. There were sounds of metal being cut, and tires being removed, and engines revving up coming from the garage. And there I was in the middle of all that crying. I turned my head, acting as if I was staring at the morning traffic as I wiped my tears. There was a man a couple of chairs down from me. I couldn't see him but I was hoping he wasn't thinking I was a complete basket case of a woman who cries in public while waiting for an oil change. Who does that? Me. I don't know if it was the lack of sleep coupled with the story that hit too close to home, but it happened. And I'm over it now. Until the next time I end up crying in public. Oh gosh, just please not anytime soon. Or not ever would be better. </span></b><br />
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iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-24389116432421478002012-06-19T00:43:00.000-07:002012-06-19T00:51:46.654-07:00Being Stubborn For the Sake of my Son<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://scm-l3.technorati.com/12/04/02/66561/autism-ribbon.jpg?t=20120402181053" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://scm-l3.technorati.com/12/04/02/66561/autism-ribbon.jpg?t=20120402181053" width="113" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">In March of this year I was researching online specific behavior of one of my twins, Coby. After five kids I was pretty used to regular toddler behavior. But Coby, at 2 years, was not talking yet, and had very odd habits, and major tantrums. After reading over several blogs, over a dozen articles online, and watching a bunch of youtube videos I decided I needed to get Coby to a specialist. An <i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism" target="_blank">Autism</a> </span></i>specialists. I did even more research on how I could get him evaluated, and found a research group that would do it. The Child Psychologist given to me by my insurance wouldn't even see him until he was either over three or after five years old. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">On May 1st, my daughter's 7th birthday, we took Coby in for the 4 hour process of the Dr. observing him, playing with him, blood work, and different tests. The Dr. said he definitely had a delay. A "Global Developmental Delay" was what she called it. Heck if I knew what that meant then, or even still understand what that means now. So I thought okay good, she didn't say definitively that he was Autistic. However, she added to her initial diagnosis, "with a risk of Autism" because of Coby's mannerisms that were stereotypical Autistic habits. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">So Coby's information was passed on to another agency which brought in another Dr. to observe him in a home setting. A two hour session of the doctor observing Coby and trying to get him to interact with her. But the overwhelming feelings I felt from being thrown into this world of Psychologists, social workers, evaluations, insurance calls, therapies for Coby, training classes for us, and people coming into my home every weekday for two hours a day was just too much. I held it together for as long as I could, but I just totally fell apart later that day. I was in the grocery store and got a text from my husband to "Have a good practice! I love you", and the tears just came. Right there while standing next to the diapers. Inside I'm trying to force myself to stop crying, but I had hit my limit. I couldn't hold it together anymore. So I called my husband and he calmed me down. He grew up with a sister with down syndrome so he assured me that we were going to be okay. I was just overwhelmed with all the information being thrown at me at once. But I was on my way to volleyball practice so it was a chance for me to exert some energy into something else besides stressing out. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">But the distraction only lasts as long as the practice. As soon as I am home I see Coby but I realize even through my little meltdown because of how things are going to change so much for us, one thing never once changed. How much I love my son. If it is at all possible I loved him even more. I never once said I wish my son were normal. I was just relieved that we finally knew what could be going on with him. I know that Coby doesn't enjoy the doctors making him focus on specific tasks, but it is for his own good. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">My family has this last week to enjoy our present normalcy before we have to altar everything around Coby and his therapy sessions and our parent training. On top of jobs, the other four kids, house cleaning/cooking, exercise, and trying to get sleep, it's going to be hard. <span style="background-color: white;">Statistics I've read say that couples that have a special needs child increases chance of divorce and health problems connected to high stress levels. I'm sure that happens, but I refuse to believe it for us. </span><span style="background-color: white;">What's the saying? God never gives you anything you can't handle. I think that's why He made me so stubborn. If anyone tells me I can't do anything then I'll try my </span><span style="background-color: white;">darnedest</span><span style="background-color: white;"> to prove them wrong. Even if "them" is just a stupid statistic. </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" - Philippians 4:13</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">P.S. All prayers will be gladly appreciated. God Bless! </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><3 Reenie </span></b><br />
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-33873761300557077402012-05-22T11:47:00.001-07:002012-05-22T11:50:27.808-07:00I Break for Food!<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">It's been a month since the last time I posted something up. I was going to post about my cooking adventure, but was too busy cooking. So here are some of my recipes I remembered to take pictures of.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">I love love loved this carrot cake recipe. Just the right balance of carrot and nuts. But the best part of the recipe is the cream cheese frosting. I just kept "sampling" the frosting to make sure it tasted okay. ;) It's a bit time consuming getting the carrots shredded, but it was worth it. You have to try this carrot cake recipe! <a href="http://www.delish-blog.com/2010/09/carrot-cake/"><span style="color: magenta;"><i>Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting </i></span></a></span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tNAXHGPJpfiPmBmOI2cjtsZGOjRb-eFx8T4h5qRB8EqMnOifzV4Lx6OKD0TxRJ5-2rvHMNbOCPkxzS7T9tJDXt7XGSgumeGv9pJithCej6v1qnbsxcVq9NQLspw9PEquYRKmMgk_0gU5/s1600/DSC01517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tNAXHGPJpfiPmBmOI2cjtsZGOjRb-eFx8T4h5qRB8EqMnOifzV4Lx6OKD0TxRJ5-2rvHMNbOCPkxzS7T9tJDXt7XGSgumeGv9pJithCej6v1qnbsxcVq9NQLspw9PEquYRKmMgk_0gU5/s320/DSC01517.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Chicken and Spinach pasta bake. I didn't care for the canned tomatoes in the recipe next time I'll use fresh tomatoes, but otherwise an easy recipe. <a href="http://www.savingmoneylivinglife.com/2010/06/chicken-spinach-pasta-bake.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: magenta;"><i>chicken and spinach pasta bake</i></span></a></span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagK_L6wCLa846yaXovnnIu39sllBZAJ0FtzxBxRZMXhUXRnexUkeAG5ZkjKVGMOrXzlgi1sY8xFIzLu5ghV_rljWNL2Dk01OIdMBoBaxbGhU9BwFeZxF9PdC3wwdihY9HLixNKGZ6CfIv/s1600/DSC01527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagK_L6wCLa846yaXovnnIu39sllBZAJ0FtzxBxRZMXhUXRnexUkeAG5ZkjKVGMOrXzlgi1sY8xFIzLu5ghV_rljWNL2Dk01OIdMBoBaxbGhU9BwFeZxF9PdC3wwdihY9HLixNKGZ6CfIv/s320/DSC01527.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These crescent pockets are so easy and delicious. My kids loved them and leftovers are easy to pack for my hubby's lunch. <a href="http://www.delish-blog.com/2008/06/chicken-crescent-pockets/" target="_blank"><i><span style="color: magenta;">Chicken Crescent Pockets</span></i></a></span></span></b><br />
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<br /></div>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-6074564957307451402012-04-25T12:02:00.000-07:002012-04-25T12:58:54.280-07:00My Julie&Julia kick... Tired of the same ole meals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">I loved the idea to this movie. Although I love Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep the movie itself was a little disappointing. This is not a post about a movie review though so moving on. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">I've been on a new recipe cooking mood and it's been wonderful. I absolutely love cooking. Cooking has always been one of those things that can bring my spirits up when I'm having a bad day. Even if I'm slaving in the hot kitchen, piling up dishes and pans I know I'm going to have to clean later, I still love it. It's the one thing I know I'm good at. If I have a recipe and I can get all the ingredients and the tools I need, I can cook it. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">So, now that I don't have volleyball taking up my evening hours I have more time to prep dinner instead of throwing the same old chicken in the oven. I love trying new recipes, so I was thinking if I could do my own little Julie/Julia project. Of course I can't do it every night like Julie did in the movie because I do still have five kids. However, those five kids and the hubby have to eat, so if I'm going to be busy with something it might as well be something they can eat! </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Two nights ago I tried a new meatloaf recipe. I was rushing through a little bit and didn't season it as well as I wanted. But the meatloaf is gone, so it must have been good. I tried this recipe last night and it was a big hit! Even my oldest son, who hates any kind of food if it's not sweet, from a cereal box, or ramen noodles, ate it. He ate a small serving, but he ate it. My sister and I broke out a little white wine to go with it, and it was divine! </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.bhg.com/recipe/beef/eight-layer-casserole/" target="_blank">Eight Layer Spinach Casserole </a></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Click on the link for the recipe. </span>
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<a href="http://images.meredith.com/bhg/images/recipe/l_R090411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://images.meredith.com/bhg/images/recipe/l_R090411.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: magenta; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">*Note* I used penne pasta instead of egg noodles, and ground turkey instead of ground beef. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-66430622132328857362012-04-22T17:07:00.000-07:002012-04-23T00:33:58.970-07:00The Secret to Well Behaved Kids<div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.oprah.com/oprahradio/Be-a-Parent-Not-a-Best-Friend" target="_blank"><span style="color: magenta;">"Don't be afraid to impose rules and structure, and don't try to be your kids' best friend. They can have lots of friends, but only have one mom and one dad."</span></a></span></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">— </span><a href="http://www.oprah.com/oprahradio/Be-a-Parent-Not-a-Best-Friend" style="color: #846088; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><i>Rabbi Shmuley Boteach</i></a></span><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>People ask me all the time how do you get your kids to behave so well? Like there is some big secret to being a parent that my husband and I are keeping to ourselves. I hate to break it to people, but there is NO big secret to raising well behaved kids. Just do what you know needs to be done. Discipline your kids when they need it, talk to them about how they feel, teach them the value of work, teach them how to be respectful, and for goodness sake teach them some manners. I don't understand why it's so hard for parents these days to BE parents. </i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>From now on when parents ask me how do I get my kids so well behaved, I'll ask one question. "Are you best friends with your kids?" If they say "Oh yes totally". Then I'll say, "WRONG! If your kids at one time in their lives don't hate you or want to run away, or think their lives are unfair because of you, then you are not being a parent. You are being their friend. And last time I checked I don't give a crap what my friends tell me to do, I'll do whatever the hell I want!"</i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Being a parent isn't easy. It's the hardest thing in the world to know that what you do and how you shape these little people is the difference between whether they are "normal" and well adjusted OR just plain screwed up in the future. Even with well behaved kids, I still wonder if they are not screwed up in some way or another. Who knows we will just have to see. I'll never stop trying though. Not ever! </i></span></b><br />
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</div>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-26295669514015313302012-04-20T01:58:00.001-07:002012-04-26T21:44:23.618-07:00Confessions of a Pisces<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>I believe this quote to be true. Although this could apply to mothers in general, being a Pisces mother can magnify this fact ten times more. Sometimes I don't realize I'm doing it. I love helping people, and most of the time I don't think it's going to be that hard. But sometimes, I get in over my head and then I just end up working myself into physical and emotional exhaustion. And I know that I can spread myself thin sometimes, but my cousin made me realize how much I do put other people's desires higher than my own. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>It wasn't a serious talk or some deep discussion we were having. I was telling my cousin about my Dad asking me to help them out with some dances for a dinner dance/luau they were going to have at their church. My dancing days are so over it's not even funny. And my initial answer was no of course. But me being me, I think I can do anything. I could do some research, make up some choreography for a hula, and something else, and then I could skype or video chat with my sister and teach her the dance so I didn't have to drive over an hour. Yada yada yada, my brain keeps trying to figure out ways to help out my Dad. As I'm telling this to my cousin she just says, "But you are too busy with five kids". That's it. That's all she said. Not only once, but twice. After I mentioned something else about maybe getting a part time job. That's all she said. So simple for her to just say it. But how is it that it doesn't just click in my head that way. Knock, knock, hello there you...yea you who is trying to do too much. STOP IT!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>I don't really know if I can. It's become habit I guess. If I'm not helping somebody with something I kind of feel like a slacker. Which is why I volunteered to help with my kids and their annual Variety Show at their school. Turns out I was THE ONLY parent that sent in the paper to volunteer. I don't know if that's a sign for me to stop with the extra work on top of my number one job, but I'm still going to help out. I've already told my kids I was going to help. And it will probably be the last thing for a while. Oh wait I volunteered with my daughters dance group too. Okay after that. That one will be the last time. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b>Well we will see how well that goes. Wish me luck!</b></span></div>
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-50715928721449613342012-04-12T13:12:00.001-07:002012-04-12T13:12:41.082-07:00"Mom can you do....EVERYTHING?"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">I laughed so hard when I saw this picture. And not because I'm not this Mom, but because <i>I AM</i> this Mom. I thought, "Wow I really need to stop doing this to myself". Just the other day my 4 year old was in a really bad mood. Everything I asked her was answered in a high pitched whiny little cry. Oh how I hate that voice! So she finally just said, "I need to go potty!" To which I answered as patiently as I could muster, "So go potty already". Then she cried in that voice "But can you walk me to the bathroom!" To our bathroom down the hall, literally 5 steps away. LOL! Of course I walked her. She's my baby and she wasn't in a good mood. Which is what I'm telling myself now so I don't feel absolutely ridiculous for being that mom in this picture. The things we do for our kids. I hope I'm not the only one out there like this. Right?.....Right! (crickets)</span></b></div>
<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-26759025554877588592012-04-10T13:07:00.000-07:002012-04-10T17:34:54.876-07:00The Hunger Games vs. Telesa The Covenant Keeper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>First of all before I get all kinds of appalling comments and bashing, I'm not comparing these two books as a competition of which book was better. Although it was hard for me to read S.C. It felt like I was reading someone on A.D.D. jumping from one subject to the next without any warning it seemed to me. And I had issues with the way she ended the books like it was just another chapter. But it doesn't mean I didn't love the books and finished the trilogy in a matter of days. It's just my opinion as a reader. I know nothing about writing books, so that's all I'm going to say about that. I just recently read THG trilogy and I loved the books, but was left with an obsession over some pretty depressing books in my opinion. I've read Catching Fire twice already and went back to re read The Hunger Games, but I had to stop reading it. </i></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>I thought, "I really need to stop reading this series. I love it but it just leaves me feeling sad." </i></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>So what's my cure for depression over fictional characters? Of course Telesa. Except for the obvious "Girl on fire" in both books. The story of THG and Telesa have nothing in common to me. Both books are awesome. But being that I was tired of reading about people dying and favorite characters being killed off, I started reading Telesa, AGAIN, for the umpteenth time. The only thing good about my Alzheimer like memory is that I get to relive certain parts of my favorite books like it was my first time reading the book again. For example, how did I forget about the whole Mele and Leila confrontation before Leila does her taupou siva while Daniel sings. While I was reading through that I remembered why I wanted Leila to burn that heifer's face off...LOL.(harsh I know) And my heart just melting with just the little gesture of Daniel's arms around Leila in a crowded McDonald's. Or the way he sticks up for Leila against the Telesa "psycho bitches". (swoon) What girl doesn't want a man to stand up and protect her against unimaginable supernatural power? No girl, that's who. I haven't even finished re reading Telesa again, but I just felt like I needed to blog about it. Poor Jason is still sick in the hospital, so I gotta get back to my reading. (As if Jason will stay sick if I don't finish reading. smh I need real friends. lol) Anyway, if you haven't re read your Telesa book lately, you totally should. It always makes me feel better. </i></span></b></div>
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-20007610413907752422012-03-20T13:19:00.000-07:002012-04-23T00:15:24.598-07:00A Tale of Two Weddings...Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>First of all let me apologize for taking so long to finally finish this Tale of Two Weddings. I would have finished part 2 the week after part 1, but it's kind of hard to write about your second wedding to your loving husband when he was totally getting on your nerves. But it's okay now. ;) I'm also in season for my Club Volleyball team so that's been another factor in my neglect of my blog. (excuses, excuses right?)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>So like I said in part 1, two years after our Las Vegas wedding, Wolfy and I renewed our vows in a church wedding. I'm Catholic, so it took almost a year for Wolfy and I to finish classes so we could finally start making plans. We went to couples retreats, marriage prep conferences, financial classes, and Catholic Sacrament classes. It was a lot but we were lucky to have a wonderful priest in Father Wallace, our local parish pastor. We just happened to live in military housing right next to this church that Fr. Wallace was pastor. ("Things happen for a reason") Fr. Wallace knew how to explain and teach things to my husband in a way I never could. After classes with Fr. Wallace Wolfy told me he had a whole new understanding and respect for Catholic traditions and why we do things that seemed foreign to him, who grew up attending Samoan Congregational Church. But no matter what Wolfy learned, the one thing about the Catholic mass he loved most was the ONLY one hour mass. LOL</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>So we finally met with Fr. Wallace to finally try to find a date for our ceremony and plan out the mass. While we were talking about our families I mentioned that my Mom and Dad were in a Catholic Samoan choir that mostly consisted of my family. A big smile came over Fr. Wallace's face and he asked, "Do you think they would come out here to sing?" I was kind of shocked he asked. I never even thought of it because at the time Wolfy and I lived almost two hours away from my parents. But I went home and called my Mom and she said she would make it happen. I was ecstatic! Basically half my family would be coming already because they were all in the choir. Yay! We talked about having our vows renewed during a normal Sunday mass. Fr. Wallace found an open Sunday and it just so happen that the Gospel reading for that Sunday was John 2: 1-11, The Wedding at Cana (Where Jesus performed his first miracle of turning water to wine). It was the perfect reading for such an event. So the whole church would be showing up for a normal Sunday mass, except to find out that they were going to witness a young couple's vows being renewed in the Catholic faith. My mother knows a lot about Catholic liturgy in the English and the Samoan mass so Fr. Wallace also allowed us to add Samoan customs to the mass. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't know if it is because of my horrible memory or because my Mom took care of so much, but </i><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't really remember having to plan much. I made heaps of phone calls to my Mom but I don't really remember stressing out over food, housing, clothes, or the service. But I'm pretty sure it was my Mom. She didn't want me stressing because I just found out I was pregnant with our first baby. Which is the reason I opted out of another wedding dress for our second ceremony. I wasn't about to pay for a fancy wedding gown just to have my little 5 month belly not fit in it. So I chose some nice fabric my sister had just acquired from her mother in laws trip to Samoa and told my Mom to make me a nice and simple mumu'u and Wolfy a matching shirt. Simple simple was my motto after all the trouble with the Las Vegas wedding.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>The day was Sunday January 14, 2001. It was the total opposite of our Las Vegas wedding as far as my stress level. My family had already arrived in from out of town and they were all in their rooms. Nobody got kicked out. Everyone drove so no bags were lost. I was pregnant so I had no trouble sleeping. I even woke up early got dressed and Wolfy and I were early to the church. Right at that moment I had a sense of peace and I just knew that everything was going to be okay. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>We were early so we greeted family as they arrived and headed upstairs to the choir loft. My parents, my aunts, uncles, cousins, and even my nieces and nephews were there. However, Wolfy's family only included his parents his brother and his sister. All of his family attended our Las Vegas wedding so Wolfy didn't feel like inviting them all again. It was especially emotional for Wolfy to have his Dad there. Just four months before his Dad had been diagnosed with lung cancer and was going through chemo treatments. He had already lost his hair and was losing weight, but he was always smiles. Wolfy's Mom questioned why we needed to have another wedding, but Wolfy's Dad was a pastor's son, so he understood. Although Wolfy and I appreciated everything they did for our first wedding, my Father in Law still understood that because of the way I was raised in the church, that it was just something that I really wanted to do.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Fr. Wallace arrived and was ready to start mass with his entrance procession, which was going to be including us. Even though the majority of my family was there, it was nerve racking walking into a church full of strangers. As we walked down the aisle people looked over but didn't really seem to care. They probably thought we were going to be doing the readings for the mass. Until Fr. Wallace announced the reason for the two extra people up front with him. I wanted to look behind and see people's reactions but my Mom was out front moving us along the mass. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This part of our ceremony was the Ifoga.</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> My Mom was signaling for Wolfy and I to step to the center of the church in front of the altar to kneel down. My Mom and Aunt then covered us with a fine mat. In the programs my Mom made for the mass it explained the ritual so that the congregation wouldn't be confused as to what was going on. She described it as "...a Fine Mat, a symbol of humility and shame, and at the same token, asking for forgiveness and reconciliation from God. (The two covered represent all of us)." I'd like to say that as we were covered I was emotional and deep in thought. But I was pregnant, and it was hot under the mat so no deep emotional thoughts that I can remember. However, it was weird, when Fr. Wallace removed the fine mat, I REALLY did feel like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Not just the weight of the fine mat, but the weight of my guilt. And I felt my eyes welt up with tears. When we sat back in our seats, I grabbed Wolfy's hand and just smiled. I couldn't help but be happy at that moment.</i></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>After the readings from the Bible, Fr. Wallace spoke of how perfect it was that the Gospel of the day should be about a Wedding and we were there to renew our vows in the faith. That the Sacrament of Marriage was so celebrated that in John 2: 1-11, at the Wedding in Cana, Jesus at the request of his Mother, performed his first miracle. That will always be my favorite Bible story.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>It was then time to bless our wedding rings and recite our vows. This was the least favorite part for Wolfy and I. Yes it's the most important part of the ceremony, but we aren't people who like attention, and all eyes and ears were on us. Thank God neither of us fumbled any words. But I think Fr. Wallace thought we were trying to whisper our vows because he held the microphone closer and closer as we said the vows. Afterwards, everyone clapped and that was that. The Sacrament of Marriage complete. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>The mass went on as normally done, with some other Samoan customs added to the liturgy. At the presentation of the gifts, the choir switched gears, and sang a Samoan song. My cousin, dressed as a taupou, lead the procession in dance followed with the gifts of the bread, wine, and flower leis. I could just feel the excitement from the congregation as they were witnessing a Samoan siva for the first time ever. And in church, during mass no less. I couldn't help but notice a little smile on Fr. Wallace's face as stood a little taller after receiving his lei. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>When it was time for Communion, I was finding myself getting emotional again. It would be my first time receiving Communion again after probably a year. It actually should have been two years, but I was misled by another priest at a different church. You see, I went to confession after Wolfy and I were married, knowing that I wasn't married in a Catholic ceremony and asked if I could still take Communion. I don't know if the priest could hear me clearly because he was really old, but he told me I could continue receiving Communion. One Sunday, not long after our first wedding, we visited my parents. We were all in church and when it came time for Communion, I lined up as usual. But my Mom stood up from the choir, walked over to me and pulled me out of the line. That had to have been one of THE MOST embarrassing times in my life. I looked at her confused and she told me I shouldn't be taking Communion. I was genuinely confused, but she let me take Communion anyway. But I couldn't help it, I was still just totally humiliated in my mind, and of course my mother made me cry. Anyway, back to our second wedding day. I was finally able to receive Communion, and just like the removing of the fine mat, I literally felt different after receiving Communion again. I can only explain it as just finally being true to myself. It was the way I was raised and falling in love, and getting married somewhere else couldn't change the fact that my faith is what put my soul at ease. And when I was finally true to my faith, I was extremely happy. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Mass finally ended and we walked up the aisle with Fr. Wallace. A church full of strangers, and every single aisle we walked by were full of smiling faces, and congratulations. How could I be any happier at that moment? I tell you how...food! LOL I didn't realize that my family had been setting up a buffet line outside of the church for everyone to share in the festivities. As soon as I walked out of the church I could smell Mom's sapasui, and I was immediately starving. (Did I mention I was pregnant lol) As people were coming out they stopped to congratulate us, and just couldn't stop going on about the choir and Samoan parts of the mass. I grew up singing in a choir, so I guess I don't appreciate it as much as the people who don't get to have mass with a full choir every Sunday. I do have to admit that with the acoustics in the church they sounded beautiful. Wolfy's Dad described it as sounding like a choir of Angels. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>So we ate, took pictures, cut cake, took more pictures and ate some more. But afterwards when the men were all full and heading back to their t.v.'s to watch Sunday Football, I just couldn't stop thinking how the day could not have been more perfect. It was just a simple little day, but oh so perfect.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>At the beginning of this long post I used my irritation with Wolfy as an excuse for my lack of inspiration to finish part 2. But it was actually my hubby who pushed me to finish what I started. Even after 13 years he still inspires me. I'm constantly giving him a hard time because I'm always tired and busy, but when I really need him he always takes care of me. It hasn't been easy, and sometimes still isn't, but knowing that I have him as my partner in life makes me look forward to the next 13 years. Here's to hoping I'm able to share those wonderful years with you all too!</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i> ~Reenie</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-16515124681817377612012-03-18T20:11:00.000-07:002012-03-18T20:14:54.580-07:00Excuses, Excuses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">So this weekend Wolfy and I actually spent a weekend away from the kids. It's been ages since we actually spent time alone without at least one or two kids. So we had plenty of time to talk. Since we were headed to Las Vegas we were reminiscing about our first wedding from <a href="http://iheartjamee.blogspot.com/2012/01/this-past-weekend-was-our-13th.html" target="_blank">"A Tale of Two Weddings (Part 1)"</a>. I told him that I actually wrote about it on my Blog and he was surprised. Surprised that people actually read my Blog but also that people are actually interested in our little story. But then I had to confess that I haven't finished writing Part 2 yet. Leave it to him to kick my writing back into gear. He told me "If you said you were going to do it you better get it done. At least start writing a little at a time." Which I've done, but now I just need to finish it all. I just wanted to update on my return to my blog. =) I haven't forgotten about you Blogger world. I've missed you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">On a side note, before we left for Vegas I was looking up the directions to our old Wedding Chapel from our Hotel. But it was gone! Literally not there anymore. We wanted to drive by and maybe even take pictures in front of the place we had our first wedding. Unfortunately it was moved to another city nearby into the Clark County museum park that preserves old Las Vegas historical attractions. We weren't able to go see it but I want to take my kids to that museum someday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Okay, gotta go...no more excuses for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-83875638596153777412012-01-17T10:25:00.000-08:002012-01-18T08:45:18.967-08:00A Tale of Two Weddings...part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>This past weekend was our 13th Wedding Anniversary. Wolfy and I actually have two Wedding Anniversary dates. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Our first wedding was in Las Vegas in March. Yes we actually got married in Vegas. But it wasn't suppose to be that way. At least that's what I realized afterwards. Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>My parents were not at my first wedding. I was raised in a Catholic home by two very devout Catholic parents, and they wanted no part of a wedding in Las Vegas. That was like my parents worst nightmare come true. Their "good daughter" was on a downward spiral and they couldn't stop it. Oh, but they tried. I almost canceled the wedding. The week before my wedding my mom got my Auntie to call me. She cried on the phone and pleaded with me to not go through with it. I was suppose to get married in the church, with all my family around, and with my parents there. But it was too late. Arrangements had already been made and we couldn't just pull out or else Wolfy's parents would have lost money. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>So we headed to Vegas. We didn't even get a chance to settle into our rooms because I had to go to a fitting for a dress with Wolfy's cousins. Wolfy's cousins hated me though, so it was really awkward that they were forcing me to put her up there to stand next to me. But I found the cutest dress and Wolfy's tuxedo and we headed back to the hotel. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>I was so happy when we got back and heard that my siblings had arrived. My siblings all wanted to be there but they had to rent a car. None of them at the time had credit cards so they had trouble finding a car. So they had to resort to a shady little car dealership that rented out some of their cars. My poor sister was driving the 5 hour drive and was praying the whole time that the car wouldn't break down in the middle of nowhere. But they finally made it safe and settled into their room. Only to be kicked out by the hotel staff saying that there was a mistake and that their room had been overbooked. My mother in law was not having it and gave the front desk an earful. She had them calling out all the managers, and taking down emails of CEO's. She was on a mission and finally they were able to get them another room. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Wolfy still hadn't arrived so I was on the verge of a breakdown. He was flying in from Chicago straight out of Navy schooling so I hadn't seen him in three months. When he finally arrived I was in his arms again and it was just the best feeling ever. But then we find out one of his bags were lost. Of course the bag with his Navy uniforms. We couldn't really do anything but wait to see if they found it. We went back to our room and tried to get some sleep through all the problems, and nerves, and excitement. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>When I finally woke I rushed out of bed to start my preparations. With all that was going on I forgot one lovely detail to my wedded bliss. It was my time of the month. Boo...I hate you mother nature! Of all the days? Come on! What a boring honeymoon we were going to have. Right when I was about to start crying, Wolfy calls me from the room. I came out the bathroom and he was almost done putting on his tuxedo. He looked so handsome I was smiling from ear to ear. Then I saw his face, and was wondering, oh my gosh, what now? I was so busy with trying to find a dress that I didn't double check Wolfy's tuxedo before we left. His mom decided to pick out a red bow tie for him to wear. He was mortified. Only because he is pretty particular with the things he wears, and it sure wasn't going to be a red bow tie. The morning of our wedding and he did not want to wear his tuxedo. It was too late to call the tuxedo rental place and he didn't have any of his Navy uniforms either. So he put on the dreaded bow tie and we headed to the chapel.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>The Candlelight Wedding Chapel was a very cute little chapel. And I'm not lying when I say it was little. My walk down the aisle probably took only 8 steps, but I took little steps to stretch it out a little longer. And the "preacher" was so weird. His voice and the way he spoke with such a slow tempo of loud and soft made me think of going up and down little hills on a long road. It was not helping me take the wedding seriously. So we stood there, Wolfy wanting to rip off his stupid bow tie, while I'm trying not to bust out laughing. I was actually relieved that the ceremony was nice and short. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>The majority of the wedding guests waited outside while we set up to take some pictures in the chapel. My older brother finally made it over to us to congratulate us. But as soon as he hugged me I started bawling! Not the cute little sentimental cry, but the loud, "I want my Mommy and Daddy" cry that I couldn't hold back anymore. My brother tried to shush me but my in laws and Wolfy's cousins were all starring at me. What's the best thing to do before you take your wedding photos? Yea full on cry your eyes out. Ugh, it was so hard for me to finally stop crying, and then try to get the already swollen and red out of my eyes. I just had to suck it up and take the stupid pictures. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>That's when it came to me. It wasn't suppose to be this way. I'm not suppose to be getting married without my parents! That's just not how it's suppose to be. And the "universe" was trying to tell me that. Everything that was going wrong was for a reason. But it was too late. I was immensely grateful to my in laws for taking on the expense of our little wedding, but in my heart I knew that Wolfy and I had gone at it the wrong way. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Since then I always think back to our little Las Vegas wedding as a reminder to be aware of the things that I'm trying to force. That I need to check my self when I want something so bad, but things just aren't working out. I stop and think about the what I want, and what I need, and pray. I've kept myself from making a lot of bad decisions this way. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>So, anyway why was our anniversary this past weekend in January when our Las Vegas wedding was in March? Well our second wedding was in January. Two years after our first wedding, we had our vows blessed in a church wedding...and it was PERFECT! </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>But this blog is long enough...second wedding details coming soon. =) </i></b></span><br />
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-11103448151057012152012-01-09T09:57:00.000-08:002012-01-09T10:17:35.517-08:00Why do I need to sleep?<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>So I'm attempting to just blog on the fly this morning. I'm weird that I like to think about what I'm going to write about, plan it out, then blog. This feels weird. I don't really know what I'm going to write about. I'm just typing to see if anything pops into my head. </i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>So welcome to 2012. (btw I totally started writing about something else and changed my mind and deleted it all) LOL I'm hopeless. So I guess one of the things that has been taking up my blogging and reading time is crochet and knitting. My grandmother and auntie taught me how to crochet when I was a teenager. I get in these crafty moods from time to time and break out my yarn and needles. My 8 year old nephew recently started loom knitting so I wanted to try it too. Hey if an 8 year old could do it, how hard could it be. So I bought one and I loved it. It is so much easier than knitting by hand. And faster. And already I've made 2 hats, and 2 scarves. </i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>The other thing that has got me obsessed lately is Pinterest. It's this new website. I guess you can call it an online pin board of things you love, recipes you want to try, clothes you like, places you want to go, and anything really. I LOVE IT! Wolfy sits there and teases me about it, but I've found a lot of great ideas on there for storage, organization, and saving money. Which of course has me wanting to do all kinds of other crafts...that take up my reading and blogging time. Ugh, why do I need to sleep. I would get so much done. </i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>So here are some links to some of the new projects I've found and done on Pinterest. You should try it. </i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>My daughter has so many headbands all over the house. I went to the dollar store for a cheap paper towel holder and a roll of paper towel. I used fabric I had on hand to make this. Cost me $2. Here is the link to <a href="http://katieballa.blogspot.com/2009/08/headbandtastic.html" target="_blank">Headband Holder tutorial</a></i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Here is an example of <a href="http://rivercitystl.wordpress.com/category/loom-knitting/page/3/" target="_blank">loom knitting</a></i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>I also found this recipe for super easy 2 ingredients <a href="http://sweet-verbena.blogspot.com/2011/08/pumpkin-muffins.html" target="_blank">Pumpkin Muffins</a>. Genius and Delicious. </i></span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2Xl7orwTQ8YgfDhsFy7Dn5VwM2mE3MgJ04R7FfIeQ0WU1pV1BsRMYG7b4BGRGrRq2ais6UDfSx_5EZDq1g-0iTFOkC9NDiVzRdN0NitZnOoG4VosD9eYr0vTkN6ULw4ooDVqB_50JOxm/s400/128202905_ie5uArTk_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2Xl7orwTQ8YgfDhsFy7Dn5VwM2mE3MgJ04R7FfIeQ0WU1pV1BsRMYG7b4BGRGrRq2ais6UDfSx_5EZDq1g-0iTFOkC9NDiVzRdN0NitZnOoG4VosD9eYr0vTkN6ULw4ooDVqB_50JOxm/s400/128202905_ie5uArTk_c.jpg" width="300" /></i></span></b></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Pinterest is currently invite only. Just let me know and I'll invite you. </i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><i>Happy crafting, cooking, and eating. =) </i></span></b>iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958727946673492439.post-84773973827211815202011-12-16T08:51:00.000-08:002011-12-16T08:52:30.614-08:00Neglected Blog...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>I'm sorry my lovely Blog. I've been busy, I promise. I'm not ignoring you. I haven't been surfing the web while you sit here blog-less for over a week. I haven't been thinking of things to blog about then log in and have brain farts. I haven't been catching up on all my TV show episodes I've been missing. I haven't been hanging out on Facebook and Twitter, while you just sit here. I promise...lol. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Okay so I have been busy. Funny thing about being busy is, I think back and I can't seem to remember what it was I was busy with. I have been baking a lot though. Too much actually. I'm going to need to get back on some kind of workout program after this holiday. Being a baker who loves pastries is like being a pot head and trying to sell weed. hahaha!! It's just all bad. </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Anyway, Christmas is here and I wanted to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas (or "Happy" Christmas depending on what part of the world you are in). Or Happy Christmahanakwanzika just so I don't leave anyone out. =) Maybe after all the eating I'll be in the mood to blog again.</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Here are some pics of my baking...</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thanks to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-0nC0D62bHU&list=FLgEoyZ5JgHZtAzSpNjlo17w&index=11&feature=plpp_video">PanipoposKitchen</a> I've made panipopo for the first time and it was DELISH!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0K-D0POnhdi2xkCKHoQLfiBzYGLhd6QC1FLmLtAWYopOz6PHTCzYeu4DGUaj2fSVtvNTe-iuFHw8up4fS-ZJA1BNHLQ7YOdBT1YaGKSKvC6Eyawmj9egDeHBL0P0-_9-vEoeRjW2lMxJU/s1600/panipopo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0K-D0POnhdi2xkCKHoQLfiBzYGLhd6QC1FLmLtAWYopOz6PHTCzYeu4DGUaj2fSVtvNTe-iuFHw8up4fS-ZJA1BNHLQ7YOdBT1YaGKSKvC6Eyawmj9egDeHBL0P0-_9-vEoeRjW2lMxJU/s1600/panipopo.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">German Chocolate Cupcakes</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuqCrh9HUYAjQzbpdujUZz1OIQ1S4Ro-16fLv7eEG_K4w21ttR6YGICEWK-fxKjqJdPThVkseALQlZOSbuRllhBPA81O4IAZAhyYX857D2tJpFJrbG-CPLo9yQMNtRzKIyesY1R2QA09v/s1600/cupcakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuqCrh9HUYAjQzbpdujUZz1OIQ1S4Ro-16fLv7eEG_K4w21ttR6YGICEWK-fxKjqJdPThVkseALQlZOSbuRllhBPA81O4IAZAhyYX857D2tJpFJrbG-CPLo9yQMNtRzKIyesY1R2QA09v/s1600/cupcakes.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Pineapple Tarts</span></div>
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<br />iheartjameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01860459875873698730noreply@blogger.com5