tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81986029315169754152024-03-05T07:09:04.343-08:00Finding Bliss in a Life More or Less OrdinaryJamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.comBlogger173125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-41019956926861268432011-08-06T06:29:00.000-07:002011-08-06T06:29:40.839-07:00Thanks<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Night before last last I laid in bed and cried. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now...before you guys get all up in arms...especially those related to me, you should know know they were happy tears. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I cried because my sweet husband held me in his arms and asked me why I never gave myself any credit for being smart or</span> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pretty or wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He held in in the darkness as he told me how important I was and how much I was worth not only to him, but to our family. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Trust me, I didn't cry even a quarter of what I wanted to; however, I let silent tears roll down my cheeks wishing I could bury my face in the pillow and release all the poison that had been built up in my system for so long-all the negative thoughts, ideas, and comments that rattle inside my brain. Instead I allowed my slow tears and my bursting heart to purge the negativity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not sure I've really thanked God properly for my husband...but I did that night. I sure did!</span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-49350825802328222392011-07-18T07:40:00.000-07:002011-07-18T07:40:20.521-07:00The Married Lady<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm married</span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">...more to come later.</span> </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Much loove!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span></div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-48697538777451915462011-07-12T06:41:00.000-07:002011-07-12T06:41:05.609-07:00Why I Hate Alabama<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Now the title may be a bit inflammatory, but I seriously DO have <strong><span style="font-size: large;">an intense dislike</span></strong> of Alabama right now. I do apologize to anyone who lives there, was born there, knows someone from there, or generally likes anything in the general direction of that state-several people in that state have earned my ire and therefore the entire state is on notice!</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Notice I tell you!!!!!!!!!!!</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Lets start at the beginning...This has all happened since December:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">1- Marco got his first ever speeding ticket in Alabama coming to visit me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">2- I got MY first ever speeding ticket coming home from my sister's house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">3- We were stopped at a random roadblock on a back road at 10:00 at night and the cop acted like a total ass to Marco. "Son, you been drinking?" Really? Plus shined the flashlight in the car and almost woke up the kids and took his SWEET time in clearing us through. I guess he expected to find a van load of illegals or something. I half expected him to ask for Marco's papers or some shit. Really, dude? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">4- Yesterday we went to get our marriage license in Dothan. Let me tell you guys something, these people have the stupidest working hours known to man! (and that's another story, I guess.) Anyway, The broad behind the counter was obviously not a fan of brown people <em>(or perhaps just her job in general)</em> because she was all about evil-eyeing us the whole time...but it got worse when Marco opened his mouth. You see, I never notice his accent until we are around people who give him <em>"that look" </em>when they hear his accent. So, between the accent and his social security card, which states he is here for work purposes only, <span style="font-size: large;">she did NOT warm up to the happy couple</span>. I mean, she still looked at him like his paperwork was fake or something. <span style="font-size: large;">THEN</span>, she notices his Pink Floyd short and says, <strong>"What do you know about Pink Floyd anyway or are you just wearing the shirt?"</strong> He simply smiled and said, "<strong>Well, I certainly know several songs of theirs, but I also liked the shirt."</strong><span style="font-size: large;"><em>(God, he is so easy going and polite!)</em></span> I, on the other hand, was FUMING, people! <span style="font-size: x-large;">Fuming!</span> <span style="font-size: large;">Just who in the name of hell did she think she was to say anything like that?!</span> Just when I thought it could get no worse, she decided to be an ignorant bitch about the name on the marriage license. I even explained that in Latin culture the Father's name is used and then the Mother's maiden name is added at the end; however the "last name"is still the Father's name. Nope, "<strong>According to the social security card, the first name listed is the first name and the last name listed in the last name. I can capitalize both names, but you will end up with both names when you go change your name."</strong> I think she really enjoyed that. Stupid bitch. Even a the bank, which everyone knows is super careful about names, dropped the "mother's name" for him since it tended to cause issues and just generally be super long on checks. She had a nice little half smile/smirk on her face when she said it too. Grr, what a bitch. <em>What she may NOT know it that the last time I changed my name I literally got the option of choosing what name went where as well as what was kept and what was discarded.</em> I guess she thought it was my penance for marrying a foreigner...I'm sure in her head she said Mexican because all brown people are Mexican, right?! <span style="font-size: large;">I<em>'m also sure she went home to her rednecky friends and family had they sat around bitching about those damn Mexicans who are "stealing our jobs" and NOW our women. Sigh... </em></span>Anyway, to top the whole experience with a cherry, they do NOT mail the certified copies; so, to receive a copy of my marriage license and change my name to the super-long-craziness she thinks she has saddled me with, I have to drive BACK to DothanfuckingAlabama to see that fat bitch once again. Oh. Happy. Day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">As an addendum, I will say that not all people in Alabama are like that because we had a wonderful waitress for dinner right after who even replied in Spanish to Tristan when he told her, "Gracias." However, I stand beside my statement, which was made as we left the licensing office, "We will never live in Alabama!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sorry, Bama, you lost five knew potential residents due to the arrogance and the racism of many of your residents. </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-38172647173010408142011-06-28T20:27:00.000-07:002011-06-28T20:27:44.868-07:00Set-Backs<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let me just share my crap day with you all....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know...I know....for weeks and months even I have been oozing rainbows and glitter, but let me tell you guys I have had a <span style="font-size: large;">helluva</span> day! And not in the best way possible! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To start, I had a meeting with a priest today about my annulment. <em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Now, for those who aren't Catholic, an annulment in the Church is NOT like an annulment in the secular world. It in no way makes my children illegitimate of claims I was never married; it simply states that the marriage, for whatever reason, failed due to certain reasons (basically whatever you file) and it must be a darn good reason. You see, Catholics don't mind if you divorce; they mind mind you getting remarried.</span></em> <span style="font-size: large;">ANYWAY</span>, I had to meet with the head of the annulment tribunal and my case since I want a very strong, airtight case (<em>yes, they can say, "Umm, no.").</em> Now, I was under the impression that I HAD a strong, airtight case, but obviously I was wrong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>WTF?!?!?!?!?!</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How in the name of all that is holy can I NOT have a strong case?! It was officially the first time in a very long time where I felt responsible for what happened. I felt like I was under attack. I felt like I I was almost being blamed. Plus, I must say that Father was very unimpressed that I used birth control while married. <strong>Ummm...is HE going to pay for all the kiddies? Yeah, I didn't think so. Just saying...</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I must also meet with their psychologist to further strengthen my case. Sigh...whatthefuckever....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The big happy for all of that is, while the annulment may not be settled for almost another year, mi amorcito could care less. He also assures me that neither him mom nor his grandmother will even blink over the whole thing. Even MJ commented at lunch today, "<em>Well, that is just stupid, I'm certainly glad you aren't waiting on that whole thing." </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, score!!!! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My next worry.....I am terrified I will not get my dress shortened in time AND that I actually will not be able to fit into it. I mean, I have been worrying myself into a total frenzy all dang day. I cannot wait to try it on when I get back to Florida tomorrow. But I do NOT know what in the name of Heaven I will do if it doesn't fit. Holy shit I think I may throw up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Actually, I think I will make sure my hair isn't a shitty shade of red and I'm going to bed. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day...</span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-78181196403526199302011-06-20T09:08:00.000-07:002011-06-20T09:08:50.358-07:00Time of a ChangeSo, I just realized that I have to change this whole blog thing. Why? Umm, because I'm staring down the barrel of not being a single mom anymore. In fact, since we've been happily tucked away in MAT's house in Florida since schol let out, I'd pretty much say that I'm definitely NOT a single mom anymore. <br />
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That and we picked up our wedding rings on Saturday. <br />
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Yep, I said it. <br />
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Wedding rings...CHECK!<br />
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I'll save the story of the rings for another day, but suffice it to say that I learned a whole lot about myself and his regaurd for me during our shopping jaunt. Things I thought I had moved past, but obvioulsy not. Nothing bad, mind you, but certainly things that I should work on within myself-Or more that I should work on within myself, rather. <br />
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Now, if you forgive me, I must change my general description for this sucker.Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-1977782726564802452011-06-19T11:34:00.000-07:002011-06-19T11:34:32.106-07:00Long, Wild, Crazy Ride<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I realized a few minutes ago that, while today has a special significance for being Father's Day, it also bares a slightly stronger significance for my own life...two years ago today I though my world was completely over. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought there was no way I would ever recover from the feeling of betrayal that enveloped me like a large woman crushing me against her chest-hot, suffacating, and wholey unwelcome. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I never thought to ever have another Father's Day go by without acutly feeling what I had lost for my children, namely a Father of their very own. Yes, I said what I had lost them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You see, although I had been miserable for longer than I dare even admit, I felt it was my duty to my children to keep the family together because it was not their fault that I was unhappy. <em>He</em> seems contented enough and the children were happy enough. I accepted that obviously it was just my own problem that I was desperately unhappy and unsatisfied with my lot in life. Why should I shake up my babies' lives for soemthing that was purely me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the insident in question, I spent some time contemplating how I was too blame for it. That obviously my dissatisfacion in my marriage caused me to become a sub-par wife and lead him down a path which lead directly to adultery...<span style="font-size: large;">Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.</span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I do, in fact, take respoinsibility for my failings in my first marriage, because I did certianly have some, but I no longer take total responsibility. I have not for some time actually. <span style="font-size: large;">Thankfully. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, it does color my current relationship some, as I'm sure MAT's failed relationship with his son's mom colors his time with me. Again, thankfully, it colors it in the best way possible because we have learned to appricate the good things and call out the questionsable things early. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I have always felt blessed to have such a wonderful Dad, I can now say that my children are equally blessed becuase this man who has inherited the title to Dad takes it very seriously. He is everythig I could want in ta Father for them and loves them completely and eats up each time the call him "Dad" and each time they proudly use a Spanish word. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My world that so easily shattered two years ago, has risen like a Phoenix and it now as it should be...<span style="font-size: large;">full of love, laughter, and family. </span></span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-84945362384700586982011-06-07T20:22:00.000-07:002011-06-07T20:22:05.034-07:00Me Worried?<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I finally got the call I've been waiting for. The call that offers me an interview for a job in Florida. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>Oh happy day!!!!!!!!!!!</em></span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Marco says he is officially taping his fingers crossed for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Now because he is desperate for me to have a job or thought I wouldn't get one, but because he knows I am willing and read to work any particular job to help our <strike>little</strike> <span style="font-size: small;">(five isn't so little is it?) </span><span style="font-size: large;">family and prefers that I get to actually DO what it is that I love and went to school to do. </span></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">What a sweet man. </span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I can't wait to be in Florida again. I can't wait to sweat in the park while playing with my kids, dance around the kitchen while cooking dinner for my family, and curled up on the couch with the arms of the man I love wrapped around me and my head on his chest. It really IS the perfect way to spend an evening. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">My favorite way to spend an evening...Or an afternoon...Or any time in between. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">It's time to go home. </span></div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-17990243352459600302011-06-03T12:26:00.000-07:002011-06-03T12:26:11.582-07:00Living in ParadiseSo last week I made the first portion of "the move" this past weekend. <br />
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It has been a week and I can safely say that I have never felt more relaxed, or at least I don't remember a time when I was more relax and comfy. I really tought there would be a big adjustment period or that perhaps he would change his mind after living with us. <br />
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As it turns out, he is even more amazing than I knew. Because of his calm nature and the fact he is a phenom Dad, my kids are sleeping in their beds each night without complaint AND taking naps each afternoon. (Who are these kids and where did mine go. I don't really want them back, I just want to keep tabs on the little critters.)<br />
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There have been so many times when I have fought bursting into tears. Not because I'm sad, but because I can't believe I am so lucky. My kids are curling up with him and calling him Daddy (or Popi thanks to Dora) and his son is calling me Mom. Just thinking about them all running around on the pitch running and kicking the soccer ball around brings tears to my eyes right now. It's so natural and so amazing...there are no words, guys. There just aren't. <br />
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Anyway, I have to admit that it's going so well, the dark part of my brain has begun to try to sabotage me. At night, as this beautiful man is cuddled up next to me, holding my hand in his sleep, it begins to whisper, "Are you kidding me? How can this man, who is so sweet and patient and caring (not to mention hawt!) actually be in love with you? Do you remember being married to the "good enough"guy that decided that sex with other people was perfectly ok? What are you thinking girl?!" <br />
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Now I am lucky enough to be able to discuss this with people who can smack the darkness out of my head and then there is the lightness I feel when I tell MAT my fears. Having gone through a nasty break up with D's mom he understands, but there is something about being Colombian that makes me take things in stride and not dwell on the darkness in life. Ok, it might be genetic, but I still think it might be cultural. <br />
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I am determined to take each day and appreciate the hell out of it. Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-42292665495403671692011-05-13T20:25:00.000-07:002011-05-13T20:25:17.602-07:00Happy Birthday Baby...<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvErcIa5AikQCFNMaR4MHSuaHDE-qgS8aUKxLn0mPCig6nPPiLT_H94FddXU6S8I_8X9RXd6JxXj6ylJNBtzt2V6fWU6bmeWpPjpDq_aWLlvXBA-k-TW-zXiy0RPyjy2apZrBliNF4sFw/s1600/172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvErcIa5AikQCFNMaR4MHSuaHDE-qgS8aUKxLn0mPCig6nPPiLT_H94FddXU6S8I_8X9RXd6JxXj6ylJNBtzt2V6fWU6bmeWpPjpDq_aWLlvXBA-k-TW-zXiy0RPyjy2apZrBliNF4sFw/s200/172.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Today you are three.</span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am overwhelemed by you every day, my sweet baby. Overwhelmed by your laugh and how you crinkle your nose like I do when you are being cute. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How you make those facial expressions that are so me, but yet so you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How you are becoming a strong personality that I do worry will overpower me-until I remember how strong my personality is now that is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How you amazingly decided to wear big girl panties just like we hadn't been trying to get you to go to the potty for months. You decided on youe own. So strong. So independant. So much of what I hope you continue to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But most of all, I am most overwhelmed when you are sleeping and I can still pretened you are my little baby...that I do not have to think about giving you up one day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am amazed at the little girl you have become and stand breatheless thinking of the person you will grow into. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvFpwRZYNGTcHr9SGEkOTKQ3WexJYBoUxKzD-40ubS2ZrOxd1JncnpILybG2M-W9caYNmacX04IFFnibPTak1h0EUSQPRypaCjt4k7N4NyzYqusRRrpqqBqOWj2BamZIGlmCV9Fup2qc/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvFpwRZYNGTcHr9SGEkOTKQ3WexJYBoUxKzD-40ubS2ZrOxd1JncnpILybG2M-W9caYNmacX04IFFnibPTak1h0EUSQPRypaCjt4k7N4NyzYqusRRrpqqBqOWj2BamZIGlmCV9Fup2qc/s200/008.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love you Cait! </span></div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-49611299671507366242011-05-05T16:00:00.000-07:002011-05-05T16:00:59.718-07:00Announcements<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First of all...Cait</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> has gone the entire day without an accident. I'm so proud...and I'm glad to save money by not buying pull ups or diapers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">especially since I got a "we can't ask you back because we don't have any money" letter today. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the middle of a class. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the middle of the day. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Delivered by the secretary. </span></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yeah, I was pretty well bummed until my wonderful Marco reminded me that everything will be fine because we will make sure it is. Oh and I was also reminded to breathe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I must admit to still being a bit "grrrr" until I realized that it was a sign from God that the decision I have recently made was the correct one and I am supposed to pack my bags and leave MS for good. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What's my decision you ask? </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sure you wanna know?</span><br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm getting married everyone.</span> </span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's true. July 16th we will be married in a super small ceremony at a little bed and breakfast in Alabama. Only immediate family will be in attendance (and his mom and grandmother will also be flying in for it!) and it will be just perfect. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, if any of you want to send wedding gifts or money, please feel free. :)</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'd like to say I'm kidding, but I'm really not. I never look gifts in the mouth....ok, more about getting married later. I think I'll take a nap. </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-80453995682223262852011-05-03T19:23:00.000-07:002011-05-03T19:23:47.806-07:00Mi Amorcito<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I first saw this man back in October, I remember thinking that there was no way in hell he'd ever be actually interested in me. Just no damn way, people. He's almost three years younger with three percent body fat and totally yummy. (<strong>I mean the accent alone, guys!</strong>) What in hell can I offer this man?!?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Obviously a lot as it turns out because he has chosen me. <u>Shut the Front DooR!!!</u></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And better than that...he is all about me begin as girly as I absolutely want to be. In fact, he encourages me to get my nails done. I asked him if he thought it was a stupid expense and he replied, "<em>Are you going to get them redone every 3 days?"</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>"Well, no; that's just silly."</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>"Then there is nothing wrong with you needing to get your nails done. It makes you feel good."</em></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sorry girls, he's all mine.</span> </span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He is encouraging my weight loss and reminding me to eat <em>(he used to check that I ate breakfast every day until it became a habit),</em> but not because I'm big; because, "<strong>The kids and I need you around a long time, baby</strong>." I must say it's easy to eat well around him because he eats so well. Fruit, vegetables, rice, protien, smoothies...he likes good fod, but it isn't a NEED for him. Food fuels his body; it's not something he lives for. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Hummm...What a novel concept. </u></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Actually, he asked me what I thought the other day because he was afraid he is getting too skinny. I told him that I would fatten him up soon enough with some good Southern cooking, but I wouldn't change a single thing about him. I have seriously never thought hip bones were sexy on a man until recently. <strong>Wow.</strong> <u>Really. </u></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyhoooooooo....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel myself blossoming under his light. I can remember once liking the feeling of being girly and feminine, but I stopped because it became passe'. I love the feeling of wearing dresses and feeling pretty...<span style="font-size: large;">and I do</span>. Where a majority of my life I always <strong><span style="font-size: large;">felt</span></strong> my weight <em>(regardless of what I weighed)</em> and felt awkward in <em><u>pretty</u></em> clothes because I didn't think I was pretty enough to wear pretty clothes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><strong>For some reason I thought that pretty clothes highlighted my lack of pretty by drawing attention to myself instead of helping me become prettier. I know I'm not crazy and other people have felt the same way...right?</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, as I stand beside him, I feel like the most beautiful girl in the room. Seriously. I do not notice who is prettier or skinnier or has a cuter outfit; I just focus on us and how good I feel around him. It's like the huge mountain of uncertainty disapears and I can finally relax into my skin. I have more fun. I smile more. I laugh more. I stress less. I fidget less. <u>(This is HUGE in itself!)</u> And all of these things are felt both with and without kids. I am as relaxed with all 3 kids as I am with just us 2. He just lets me be me and <span style="font-size: large;">really loves it</span>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My cousin commented months ago that it was true love becasue I said I felt skinny around him. It's true. I do. I'm am never self conscious of my weight around him and when I've said I could wear something I've seen in a store window he has just looked at me oddly and said, "Why?" Like the fact that I'm probably around 70 pounds overweight has never really occured to him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">God, I love that Latin men like women with meat on their bones. Because while I may never lose all of this 70 pounds <em>(even though I'm really trying and it's decreasing sssslllowllllyyyyyyy)</em>, he will still think I'm just as beautiful at a smaller size as he does right now. I mean...I'm going to get nothing but better!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hell, I may be freaking impossible to live with by the time I lose a bit more weight. </span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For example, I bought a dress on a whim. I thought it was pretty, but I would have <span style="font-size: large;">NEVER</span> even attempted to wear at any other time in my life...even when I was in college! But I bought this cute, lilac colored, strapless dress with ruffled tiers. <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">(see below)</span></em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <img alt="" height="200" id="mainImage" src="http://oldnavy.gap.com/Asset_Archive/ONWeb/Assets/Product/839/839522/big/on839522-00vliv01.jpg" style="display: inline;" width="150" />I wore it out the other night with a little black shrug and wedge heels with black flowers onteh strapes and his eyes bugged out of his head. <span style="font-size: large;">"Baby, this dress this dress!!! You look georgous!! Where did you get this dress!" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't ask me what anyone else was wearing that night. And don't bother asking his what anyone else was wearing because he proudly held onto me the entire night. I felt like a queen. I fetl like no one has ever made me feel before...<em>I felt like my Pop finally wasn't full of total shit for the past 33 years</em>...I felt beautiful. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Holy shit...I guess I am beautiful after all. :)</span></div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-88051044035172827642011-05-03T18:16:00.000-07:002011-05-03T18:16:47.966-07:00Slacker City (A Rewind Post from Feb)<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I realize that I have not posted anything for so long that I'm betting everyone not immediately related to me might that thought I was either dead or had just fallen off of the planet. No such luck, my FF. :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Actually, I was pretty sick all last week and was without the energy to do much of anything. But inspite of feeling all sinusey and yuk, both weekends attached to that week were absolutly, amazingly, undeniable wonderful. Seriously!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hummmm, where to start? Umm, maybe the beginning, right? Ok, at the beginning. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The kids and I met my beautiful Colombian and his cutie pie son at the Explorium in Mobile for a day of fun and bugs. It was blissfully wonderful. We all played and checked out bugs and bodies. The kids played in the special "kiddie" area and he and I talked and held hands. <em>(Ok, there was a bit of kissing and hugging going on too, but it was entirely appropriate. And even if it hadn't been I'd like someone to tell me to keep my hands off that man; he is too <strong>Delicious</strong>. Just saying. Thankfully, he seems to have the same problem with me too. )</em> Anyway, the only bad part of the whole day was actually not having enough time with one another. I just hate to have to get in the car and drive in the opposite direction of that man. I really do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At one point during the day, I ended up with D in my arms (because he <strong>TOTALLY</strong> reached for me) and MAT ended up holding Cait. So, I pose the question? What is sexier than watching him do the whole great day thing with his own baby? Doing it with mine, people. Ah, Dios mio.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As he kissed me goodbye (whoa baby! talk about Dios Mio!), I began to wonder what Valentine's would be like. Actually, let's be real for a minute, folks, I started wondering what it would be like to not have to drive away. Yep, that's right people, I was dis-tract-ed all the way home.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To read his chats (Yes, we gchat randomly throughout the work day, what?! Like you don't.) you'd think I was the most amazing woman in the entire world. I am constantly showered with words like: beautiful, sweet, wonderful, perfect, gorgeous, etc, etc, etc...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQu6VwmGiWBTkQS4tt6PRy8aOazx2imrVF3_SNDuiFWTdIgUhwVUrAPj7eKEr57PY4U5ticO6lBT_PDYxSSsNJcfF1EYSph-y1h_ze7szwpTH0IHH75RdpEN6N6mREGk8D19CTcxzxrE/s1600/Marco+and+Diego+%252891x232%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQu6VwmGiWBTkQS4tt6PRy8aOazx2imrVF3_SNDuiFWTdIgUhwVUrAPj7eKEr57PY4U5ticO6lBT_PDYxSSsNJcfF1EYSph-y1h_ze7szwpTH0IHH75RdpEN6N6mREGk8D19CTcxzxrE/s400/Marco+and+Diego+%252891x232%2529.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-83421865539654659862011-04-22T18:28:00.000-07:002011-04-22T18:28:12.556-07:00Just a bit late<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, my first</span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"blogaversary" has come and gone with absolutely no fanfare because, to be honest, I forgot. <span style="font-size: large;">Oops! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know that I have been absent for a very long time, but there has been SO much to tell that I had no way to actually tell any of you what is happening. Why? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because I was afraid it would slip through my fingers before I actually had time to wrap my brain around it all. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I reread my first post and I'm amazed at the changes that have happened in just one year. </span><a href="http://jamieccouncil-findingbliss.blogspot.com/2010/03/once-upon-time-there-was-little-girl.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://jamieccouncil-findingbliss.blogspot.com/2010/03/once-upon-time-there-was-little-girl.html</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">The biggest changes?</span></strong> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ONE: I'm happy. I'm happy when I wake up. I'm happy when I go to sleep. I'm happy when I have to fuss at my kids for not being "<em>good listeners</em>", which happens <span style="font-size: large;">WAY</span> too often. I'm happy every time in between. In fact, I can't remember the last time I cried and <strong>coming from a place where I cried at least once every single day for about two years</strong> (<em>one before the fateful "event" and one year after</em>) <span style="font-size: large;">that is pretty freaking amazing. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">TWO: I have fallen totally, completely, amazingly, stupidly, and fabulously in love. Yep. You heard it here. And even more than that, I can absolutely put my finger on the exact moment I knew it. <em>I'll write more about that later, but let's just say it's pretty schmoopy and disgusting. :)</em> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But... I love him. My kids love him. I love his son. My kids love his son. He loves my kids. And most importantly, he loves me. It's amazing! It also makes me realize how wrong I was for settling for anything less than what this is and what this feels like. Euphoria. Heaven. Breathing. I can't imagine what life is like without hearing his voice each day, without getting little notes and texts from him at random times, without feeling his arms around me when I finally see him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He doesn't create my happiness; he enhances my happiness by listening, supporting, and understanding (or at least trying to) everything I am. he doesn't want me to be anything differently than exactly what and who I am. <span style="font-size: large;"><em>Hell, guys, he even thinks my damn freckles are beautiful</em></span>. What's not to freaking love?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So what's next? Doesn't even matter because he and I will be together when it happens. He wants to marry me...and I can't think of a better way to spend the next 50 years of my life than staring into the eyes and cuddling into the arms of my beautiful Colombian soccer player. </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-65579235138057840072011-03-14T19:30:00.001-07:002011-03-14T19:30:01.272-07:00unimpressedNever underestimate people being strangely butt-hurt and pissy when you are suddenly not at their beck and fuckin call...even though they were never at yours. <br/> <br/> However, I will not let my feelings continue to be hurt. I. will live unapologetically the way I feel I should live. <br/> <br/> Isn't it odd when people seem to feel they have some sort of hold on you that they neither should have nor were asked to have. Sigh....people are crazy. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-34581589701880125092011-02-22T18:34:00.000-08:002011-02-22T18:34:05.415-08:00I'm Baaaack...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was told today that my poor cuz was so lost because I haven't blogged in a while...Sorry, Sunnie. This one's for you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know it's been a while since I showed up here, but I spent week before last so darn sick that I barely had the energy to crawl into bed each night. Then last week I was in some crazy funk that I just couldn't shake no matter what I tried. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm thinking it was probably just the aftermath of my wonderful, amazing, fabulous Valentine's with <em>mi Marquito</em>. I mean, ya spend 24 hours wrapped in the light and loving warmth of Cloud 8,422 and then plunged into the cold reality of life, it tends to play havoc on your psyche. I'm just guessing people; I have no clue why I was in my head all week. <em>(Not that I don't have several theories mind you.) </em></span><br />
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<em></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, I did manage to belly crawl out by this past Sunday and MAT was very happy to hear the difference in my voice. I guess the lunch time phone calls I received Thursday and Friday were literally to check on me because he said the other night he was starting to get concerned because I was acting differently, "Not like my Jamie." </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I need to pause here to tell all of you that being referred to as "my Jamie" or the newly minted "mi Jamiecita" is absolutely thrilling. He used that to start a text this afternoon and got so giddy and light headed that I got up and gave all my students in that class and piece of candy-just cause. That is what that man does to me...he just makes every moment seem like one to celebrate. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway...Between gaining two pounds while being too sick to track my eating on WW the week before or the fabulous news that I have to have a "procedure" for an abnormal pap (<em>lucky me</em>) or the lack of sleep that comes from MJ being out of town and both kids crawling into bed with me each night, it just wasn't my week. Ok, it didn't help that I know I wasn't going to be able to see MAT that weekend either. I joked with him that I knew it was important for him to work since he spent so much money on our amazing Valentine dinner. He was busy. I was busy. It was a beautiful weekend and even though I spent the majority of it outside with the kiddies, I couldn't help but think it'd be even more fun with MAT and little D running around with us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I am feeling better and today's flirty chats with <em>Marquito</em> certainly helped my day. Insert large smile and cleansing sigh here...</span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-2406792539039622372011-02-03T19:44:00.000-08:002011-02-03T19:44:05.719-08:00Valentine<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps I am overly dramatic or fatalistic, but I swear at least once a week I expect to get the call, email, text, chat, or whatever that effectively ends this little cloud of giggly joy of mine. Yep, it still just seems impossible that this will continue because, let's face it, I really haven't had the best luck with guys ever. I'm guessing this is different because I didn't choose him, he started it so technically he chose me. That boggles my mind, guys. It just does and I promise, I really do have a moderately healthy self esteem...<strong>now</strong>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, I had to ask a question that made me queasy, but I did it anyway. You see, I found this little gift that i knew I had to get for him, but first I needed to find out if it needed to be a Valentine's gift or a birthday gift. (<em>His birthday is the 20th</em>.) So, I asked what it should be for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He replied that he'd "<strong>be happy if you'd be my Valentine</strong>." I swear my hands were shaky and sweating waiting for that reply. Did I think he'd be all, "<em>Are you kidding, Hell no</em>," or "<em>That's a bit too much for me right now</em>,"? Umm, yeah, actually I did. Hear again, I keep expecting the worst and getting pleasantly surprised. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, long story short (<em>too late</em>) I have a Valentine's date! He made reservations for us to take a cooking class where we make this fancy brunch with the help of a chef and then eat it. I've always wanted to do something like that! Isnt' it just the sweetest?! I'm gushing...I know. It's totally disgusting and I'd vomit myself if it weren't actually happening to me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think it is cute and sweet and all romantical. Like him...</span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-57866303150331734652011-02-03T17:50:00.000-08:002011-02-03T17:50:13.665-08:00Downer CentralSo, I got some super cool, totally killer news the other day. On a whim, I threw out a resume to an online University that was looking for a Curriculum designer. I never actually thought they'd call or anything, but low and behold...they freaking called! Seriously!<br />
<br />
I talked to the Human Resources lady and she set up a phone interview for tomorrow afternoon. I am excited. My pop is pretty pumped. MAT is excited for me. Everyone seems to be excited...except MJ. <br />
<br />
In addition to really not acting excited today she lowered the boom of her problem with this "whole thing". Let's, at this point, try to understand that I am only mildly qualified for this job, but it does get me on a community college/university level, which is where I have been wanting to be or at least wanting to get to. Do I expect to get this job? Well, no. Will this stop me from trying? Well, no. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled downer session...her problem is the job is located in Orange Beach, Alabama. Yep, two hours from Pascagoula and her. Why? Because from the sounds of it, I am supposed to stay put, cross my fingers for a job here, and never budge from where I am or strive for what I want in life because that makes me a bad mother. That's right fellas. I am a bad mother. <br />
<br />
This isn't a conversation we haven't had before, but it never fails to overwhelm me every time. Any time I have a single thought that deviates from hers I become a bad mother. Shall we say that most of my thoughts diviate from hers. It's as though she doesn't understand that I do not have the luxury of being a stay at home mom and devoting every waking second of my life to my children. And to be honest, I dno't want to. I like being Jamie as much as I like being Mommy and I think it is possible to be both. Silly me. I actually said, durign this particular "discussion", "A happy Mommy is good for the kids." Her reply? "A happy Mommy comes second." <br />
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Please, do not misunderstand, I do love this woman, but she and I speak a different language. She sees herself as a martyr that sacrificed herself on the cross of motherhood and I see her as someone who really did as she pleased at any given time, but made it seem as though everything revolved around us. I wore the clothes she wanted me to wear, I wore my hair how she wanted me to wear it, I took the classes she wanted me to take, and I took it all with my head down and listened to her bitch about every small, insignificant thing I ever did, said, or thought that she disaproved of...and I did it with a smile people. Why? The same reason we all did, some battles cannot be won so you should just surrender before it begins. It was all about keeping the water smooth. Still is. <br />
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I'm not really a bad mother for wanting to follow my dreams am I?Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-39035028518667368942011-01-30T19:02:00.000-08:002011-01-30T19:02:29.533-08:00Couch to 5K Again...<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the thing...I really want to be a runner when I grow up. I've always wanted to be a runner. But unfortunately I never really thought it was possible to become a runner. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#1 - I was always told I run too long in the same place. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#2 - MJ claims women were not built to run.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#3 - My brain can't stop thinking "Are you fucking kidding me! Big girls don't run!" each time I try. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, even though I really want to I have this negative talk the revolves around my brain and thunders in my ears each time I get out there. But I think I have found the key...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I have a hard time doing a whole minute, why not create my own Ramp up to C25K program, where I only run 30 seconds at a time. I'm thinking that after about 2 weeks I'll be able to accomplish the minute without as much problem. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm even going to set it up like the original program and I will walk between my "jog" days in addition. I have 14 Weeks until my 5 K. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm thinking 2 weeks for the "Ramp Up" program adn then I will start the 'real" program, but I'm still giving myself enough time to possibley repeat weeks if necessary. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will do it this time. I will do it this time. I will do it this time. I will do it this time. Dammit!</span></div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-56964116531196265792011-01-30T09:12:00.000-08:002011-01-30T09:12:17.689-08:00Weighing Down<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I don't think I've let you guys in one this little tidbit, but I joined Weight Watchers after the New Year. I have kept it a bit "hush hush" because I felt like only fat people join WW. Well, guess what? I'm pretty fat, guys. <em>True story, even IF no one actually believes I weigh as much as I do. </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So...I bit the bullet and joined after I saw a friend of mine getting amazing results. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Guys, I have to tell you...<span style="font-size: large;">this shit ROCKS!</span> Seriously!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I've always felt kinda pissed off that I could eat whenever I wanted and had to deprive myself when I hardly ever saw my skinny friends do that. Or my skinny sister and mother. Well, on this I CAN eat whatever I want, but I just have to keep it with my point range. I can do that. Of course, I'm finding that things I thought I HAD to be able to eat I don't really want anymore though, because there are things I prefer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">For example, my favorite snack now is a banana slathered with a tbsn of peanut butter. Who know Elvis wasn't actually full of shit?! I can also eat carrots and hummas <span style="font-size: large;">(<strong>LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!)</strong></span> and I was bummed that I couldn't have hummas when I was low carbing. now, I still don't eat a whole lot of bread and whatnot, but now it's by choice and not because I'm told not to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Now, I'm pretty sure I would have hit my five pound goal before now, but I accidentally clicked the wrong thing and put myself in maintenance instead of weight loss. however, I think it's still good that I lost 5 pounds in 4 weeks. Slow and easy, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It's also teaching me how to eat. I biggest issue I've always fought is actually eating, well, eating at all. When I was growing up MJ would comment on having gained a few pounds and instantly stop eating until she'd lost it (<em><strong>Oops, I "forgot" to eat lunch again</strong></em>.) or would constantly comment on every single thing Pop and I put in out mouths; so, I assumed to lose weight you jut had to not eat. For a long time I was good at that too. In fact, I'm willing to go on a limb and guesstimate that I consumed around 100 calories a day for the entirety of my freshman year of high school. Why? Well, I only ate around my parents and then I ate like I was on a diet. Oh, MJ was SO proud of my weight loss and talked about it to everyone. Truthfully, it's one of the only times I've felt she was really proud of me. Now, some of my friends noticed the whole not eating thing and started getting concerned, but the parents never noticed anything other than my loss. <em>Ok, so that really WAS the plan, but it kinda pissed me off anyway. I know; I was a bitchy teenager.</em> Well, after the school year ended and I had to been seen eating that summer I gained weight and couldn't find that "happy-not-hungry" place anymore when school finally started. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Truthfully, I was actually pretty ok, until the high school boyfriend. With his "help" I slid down into a huge gully of self loathing that continued for years. Perhaps I'll tell you guys about it one day, but I'm not sure if I want to. Suffice it to say that I'm not in that place anymore, but it damn sure took a long time to crawl out. Anyway, I gained and pulled my fat around me subsociously thinking that only those REALLY interested in me would approach me and I'd be protected from the world. Not so much actually since I proceeded to pick guys that preyed on weak girls. And I was a weak girl</em>. <span style="font-size: large;">Notice the WAS!! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Sorry, I got derailed...my bad</em>. Anyway, the point is I'm learning to feed my body with healthy foods and not depriving myself of "treats"; however, my definition of treat is changing. I am loving WW and already plan to sign you for three more months when my first 3 are up. I will be a WW girl probably forever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The only thing I hate about it is that it took me so long to actually join. <span style="font-size: large;">I can SO do this!</span></span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-68873692192571257122011-01-29T21:03:00.000-08:002011-01-29T21:03:00.241-08:00Non-mushy Catch Up<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know that I've had a <span style="font-size: large;">WHOLE</span> lot to say about my Colombian and not so much to say about anything else lately. Sorry about that. Since I'm spending my weekend sans soccer player, I will take this time to fill all of you guys in on the goings on of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The biggest thing would be my new job. Can I just tell you guys how surprised I am that I actually like teaching Jr. High? Seriously. The seventh graders are just cute and still easily molded into whatever I want. I have NEVER been so "yes ma'am ed" in my life. I'm also lucky that I like my boss. He is a super principal and when he says, "<em>Do whatever you feel like you need to do and I will back your play</em>" I absolutely believe him. <span style="font-size: large;">Love it!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm struggling with the idea of "<span style="font-size: large;">where will I or should I be</span>" still. or maybe it's again. No, no. I think it is still. Since my job is only until May I am a bit worried about where I will be next year. Now, my boss's secretary has already voiced her opinion on the matter and wants me at Magnolia next year. While I'm down for that, I also hear there will be openings at JC in the English department, which is actually my total dream job. OK, after being a full time writer or just a person who gets paid insanely obscene amounts of money to read books all day, that is. Anyway, I've wanted to end up at a juco since I was a juco student back-in-the-day. I mean, it's more freedom that high school, but no "publish or perish" pressure. It's the perfect happy medium! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are two things that totally poo-poo on those two ideas...<strong>ONE</strong>: I never wanted to ever live in this God forsaken town and area again (<em>To those from this are, sorry, but I have to be honest. I hated growing up here).</em> <strong>TWO</strong>: the whole issue of being 3 hours from this certain beautiful and amazingly sexy <span style="font-size: large;">Colombian</span> <em>(Sorry, I guess he HAD to make an appearance. I mean, if we always live 3 hours away from each other will we ever progress past the "rose colored glasses" phase and into reality? For real, guys, he thinks I'm funny and perfect so reality has just NOT set in at all; plus, I'm still waiting for something to be wrong with him. Well, something other than him thinking I'm funny and perfect. ;) )</em>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, I still feel all shaky after last year's total <span style="font-size: large;">FUBAR</span> set of interviews where I wasn't able to score a single job. That just can't happen this year!!! I will NOT live with the parents for another year. I just won't. I need to detox and reprogram my children. I need to find my bearings as a mother and an independent woman again. Plus, let's all be honest here, I'm ready to not feel like a total loser because I'm 33 years old and live with my freaking parents. I also need a bit of space from MJ. Really. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I have decided to litter the world with my resume from the Coast, across LA (lower Alabama), west Florida, and north to the Atlanta area. Good grief, some great job should be available to me with all of those places covered. <span style="font-size: large;">Right?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did apply for a very cool juco job pre-Colombian and it would be even cooler to get it now since I'd be so close to him with that job. We will just have to see what shakes out. I must say that my frugal (cheap) side feels the most comfortable with the coastal jobs so I can live in this house for all but free. <em>(Pop is retiring in August and will move him and MJ somewhere, but where jut depends on what he plans to do.)</em> But that still make me a bit blech because of the whole distance thing. Here again, I'm still thinking that whatever will be will be. Right?! I mean, at least there would be room for him and D to come for the weekend and hang out with us. OK, I'm stopping. <span style="font-size: large;">I have to stop</span>. I just can't think about it right now because it's silly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway...I guess the moral of the story is that I am begin proactive in finding my place in the world, but I'm still totally unsure of where it is. However, at least I'm more willing to look now and I will have some money saved up so the idea of moving doesn't make me half as queasy as it did last year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Light your candles fellas. Say a few prayers. Throw some salt. Or feel free to engage in any other Deity inspiring activity that will send positive energy and vibes my way. Please and thank you in advance. </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-77062232206570964682011-01-22T20:42:00.000-08:002011-01-22T20:42:54.436-08:00So Cute<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Disclaimer:</strong> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a seriously sappy posting! Please do not continue reading if you have low tolerances for sap in its many forms. Please stop reading immediately if you find yourself gagging or the eye rolling gets frequent enough to strain any muscles.</span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Don't say I didn't warn you...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">SO, I met my beautiful Colombian again this weekend. I am constantly taken aback by the big smile that travels right up past his eyes to his forehead every time he sees me. Hugs, kisses, and hand holding follow that smile that never actually fades. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then he asks, "<em>Do you like my shirt</em>?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now this may sound like like a random and slightly odd question, and I thought so to until I looked again at it. You see, the shirt was a tiny, tiny, tiny red and white gingham that looks almost pink from far away. Still confused? Once before I had made a comment about how nice he'd look in pink because of his complexion. Let me just say, the pink looked fabulous on him and I told him so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I also had to add, "<em>So, did you buy that shirt because I told you you'd look so good in pink</em>?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He looked down smiling, "<em>Yeeeahhhh. I did; so you DO like</em>?" Do you know how hard it was to play it cool on that question? Seriously, people. You just do NOT know! However, I did show my appreciation for him going out on a limb and believing me. Once again, trying not to read things into it, but can't help but giggle at what it could possibly mean. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway...we venture on our merry way and stop for coffee. <span style="color: purple;"><strong>Yes, as a matter of fact we do always have coffee first. Why? Because I'm a McCarty and he's Colombian-that's why. SO there!</strong></span> There was a girl in front of us that had on a pair of bright pink shoes. they weren't the cutest things in the world (kinda like a low top Uggs), but I liked the color and they looked comfy. I commented on them, but he looked and then immediately looked at my feet. You see I have a pair of bright pink suede loafers that I love and have worn several times. SO he looks at me and says, "<em>They aren't cute. YOURS are much cuter? Why you didn't wear your pink shoes? You could have shown her cute shoes</em>." Ahhh, it's like he knows exactly what a girl needs to hear to feel wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Good times. Good times</span>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Anyway, he asked me about wanting to go back to school to get his Master's degree, thinking he could work for a bigger company if he had a diploma from the US instead of just from Colombia. <span style="font-size: x-small;">Personally, I think it's bullshit his diploma isn't as accepted here. I mean, mathmatics in the same in every language and country right? I also imagine Physics is the same. Sooooo is an Engineering degree from Colombia THAT different from one from here? Pfft! Whatever people! </span><span style="font-size: small;">He seemed to really want my input and, of course, I was positive about it because it seemed very important to him to have an American diploma AND because he has ambition to do more that what he is currently doing. Plus, you guys know I'm all about education. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We talked, laughed, drank coffee, ate, walked, hugged, held hands, kissed and generally had a wonderful time. His assessment of me? I'm <span style="color: blue;">pleasant to spend time with, nice, sweet, easy going, understanding, cute, funny, smart, fun, optimistic, flexible, relaxing</span>...and that's pretty much where he stopped. I think that's a damn fine list. (<em>especially since, from what I gather, D's mom is the exact opposite of all of that. OK, I'm betting she's pretty, but I've never seen a pic or anything of her</em>.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What do you guys think? Is that what becomes a girl friend, or would if I didn't live 3 hours away? I guess we shall see... </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-80531822437415432472011-01-18T16:58:00.000-08:002011-01-18T16:58:14.525-08:00Good Kinds of Trouble Brewing<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">S</span>ooooooooooo</span>, I have to share this basically because I want a written record that I have just had one of the three cutest, most disgustily sweet and nausiating conversations ever with my beautiful Colombian! <em>(Conversations that I never thought I would ever had in my entire life, mind you.)</em></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a particularly sweet comment I giggled <em>(I do a lot of giggling</em>) and said, "<strong>Oh, you are so sweet</strong>." His reply? (<em>I swear I am telling the truth; this is not a lie or a put on in any way even if it sounds like it!)</em> "<strong>No, you are sweet</strong>." Me: "<strong>I dont' know you are awful sweet</strong>." Him: "<strong>You are sweeter</strong>."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">If I'm lying I'm dying!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: lime;">The next</span> one of those was started over me saying he was cute. <em>Swear to God</em> (Thanks Uncle Sonny) he instantly said, "<strong>No, you are cute</strong>." And thus the "<em>argument</em>" begins...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What was <span style="color: lime;">today's</span> about? Ummm, it was about who was more wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Isn't it just disgusting? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Do I love it?</span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, you bet your <strong><span style="font-size: large;">sweet ass</span></strong> I do!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm enjoying every single second of it. I have even stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. I mean, I realize that it can at any second, but I'm pretty sure he'd give me a heads up <strong>AND</strong> I'm really enjoying the ride right now and plan to not get in my head too much about it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Besides, a Theta sistah of mine, <span style="color: red;">who is married to a beautiful Latin man herself</span>, told me that from the sounds of it I should go ahead and start planning the wedding. Not that I will or anything because that'd be pretty creepy, but I do accept the fact that he does like me and does want to continue to develop things, even if we are 3 hours apart. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Me?</span> Of course I do. I mean, how often does a girl get a text at 7:00 AM that says, "<strong>Good morning precious. have a great day</strong>." </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-64715031646833488712011-01-18T15:11:00.001-08:002011-01-18T15:11:14.357-08:00vg<p><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGS7q9rbIA38TfBFwEGV6OvLR9SHxhtXI0qWVWDH8alFh6ATtS15bJX4hH7VOj-20pRA7e6ryh2YAOcdHJiNdAGq9SvN0-TyWIJQDLKgrSQKzvTU3Lgii5RVJ1fERIz_3lpoDRkH1ll0/'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGS7q9rbIA38TfBFwEGV6OvLR9SHxhtXI0qWVWDH8alFh6ATtS15bJX4hH7VOj-20pRA7e6ryh2YAOcdHJiNdAGq9SvN0-TyWIJQDLKgrSQKzvTU3Lgii5RVJ1fERIz_3lpoDRkH1ll0/s400/IMAG0178.jpg' /></a></p><div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-90237673240016926652011-01-13T19:03:00.000-08:002011-01-13T19:03:24.667-08:00Bravery and Removal of DoubtSo, I inadvertently started a "talk" with my MAT last night. Actually, it was accidentally on purpose to be honest because I had been wondering for a little while, but too chicken-shit to actually ask a question. yep, I was scared to hear the answer and in my family if you don't talk about it then it doesn't actually happen. Ignorance being the path of bliss. <br />
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Anyway...a blast from the past popped up on my chat and suddenly asked me out. Surprised since I haven't actually heard from LC in forever (yeah, you remember him? He was the one that got all scared about the kids and bailed on me. Weak!) and he suddenly wants to get together again. <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, since MAT is working on Saturday and has D all Sunday, I will not get to see my sweet and sexy Colombian, but it made me realize that even if I <strong>WAS</strong> interested in seeing him (<em>which I'm not because he freaking flaked on me)</em> I'd rather save the little "Jamie" time I have towards weekend passes to see my beautiful Colombian. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since that was my thought process, that's what I told him when he asked about my day. I quickly realized what it sounded like and said, "<em>Now I'm not trying to make you feel anyway or do anything, I'm just telling you what I felt</em>." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He was perfectly fine having the conversation though. He said he was glad I was thinking in terms of being exclusive because he definitely likes me and wants to continue to see me. We agreed that the only real stumbling block we have right now is the 3 hours that separate our lives. But he did ask me to be patient with him and his full and busy life, while assuring me he'll be patient with mine. </span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8198602931516975415.post-7480388481276025212011-01-08T19:40:00.000-08:002011-01-08T19:40:08.823-08:00Blowing My Mind<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, so there is this thing that has been absolutly killing me for the longest time....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>United States 119 </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>United Kingdom 8 </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Denmark 5 </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Germany 4 </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Slovenia 3 </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>France 2</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Hungary 1 </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>Russia 1</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That, my FF is the Audience form this past week. Here's what kills me: I have a sorority sister in France and I know 2 people who live in Germany, and, of course, the United States is just a given, but I am in awe over the people who are reading this thing. For real! Actually this has been a low week because there are usually people from China and various other places too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To be perfectly onest I have no idea why anyone in the world other than my family and most sorority sisters would read my mindless ramblings and rants. Crazy! <strong><span style="font-size: large;">However, thanks guys!!!! Love ya!!!</span></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Number Two in the list of things that blow my mind...my sweet MAT who calls just to see how my day is going, thinks it is sexy that I know what little Spanish I do. <em>(I can only cuss and hold very short, simple conversations, but mainly cuss</em>.), is excited to hang out with me and my kiddies tomorrow, and occasionally whines, "<em>Why do you have to live so far away my beautiful Jamie</em>?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ahhhh my poor little fluttery heart....</span>Jamie Councilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18353736497588373816noreply@blogger.com2