tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28680208230199824322024-02-18T21:36:11.699-06:00My Secret JoyJamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-19575529571728119672011-01-19T16:48:00.002-06:002011-01-19T16:48:37.280-06:00Go here:<a href="http://the-spoken-heart.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size: x-large;">http://the-spoken-heart.blogspot.com</span></a>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-84121225078732216922010-11-21T23:39:00.000-06:002010-11-21T23:39:32.623-06:00It's been awhile When I actually did blog, I would have never guess I could be any more non existing on blogger, guess I was wrong. I'm sure no one will even noticed this shiny, new post.<br />
<br />
Blog, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. At one point in my life, the thought of you intrigued me so much. It seems I could never get a handle on the whole being a blogger though. I think at one point I had t going pretty well, but I'm pretty sure that was when I had nothing else to do in life (which is kind of ironic, because why would you need a blog, when you'd have nothing interesting to blog about due to the fact that was the most exciting part in life).<br />
I've had many thoughts of starting you over, and keeping you going for real this time. Keywords <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">this time, </span>as in, I've said that I was going to "start over and keep it going" many, many times. And for that sake, I will not say that. I'll keep pondering the idea though, deal? Deal.<br />
<br />
I don't know if you just realized, but I basically just spoke out to my blog. Not it's readers, but the blog it self. Is it later than I thought? Maybe that Monster energy drink screwed with my head a little too much tonight.<br />
<br />
I've been digging the t-swift music recently. I've been on and off with that for a few years. I'm very fond of that girl and her song writing. I sure do wish she'd write the perfect song for my relationship. I mean, once you can perfectly relate with a Taylor Swift song <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">you have lived!</span> And I'm not talking "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">oh that reminds me of so and so" </span>or "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I can understand Taylor . ."</span> I mean word for word perfect. Call me up Taylor, I'll even help.<br />
<br />
Oh, I've kind of been writing snippets of my life in this little black book, maybe I'll quote it for you sometime.<br />
<br />
As of now though, I must go to sleep, maybe again soon?<br />
<br />
Love, Jamie.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-34000423075556649522010-10-24T22:07:00.000-05:002010-10-24T22:07:22.245-05:00It'll happen. To me, It's actually kind of funny that I do not blog. I think my mind thinks as a blogger, if that is even possible. One day, I will have the perfect blog. It will happen, it's a life goal of mine. It will be beautiful, and well written. People will take note to how great of a read it is, and said people will secretly (and not so secretly) stalk it.<br />
I will be their <a href="http://www.xaxtwistedxfairytalex.blogspot.com/">Megan Abel</a> .<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Like I said, it's a dream.</div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-32772652950556111962010-09-08T22:17:00.001-05:002010-09-08T22:17:57.145-05:00"Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy no one will take from you."<br />
John 16:22Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-73107843654226228722010-09-03T22:52:00.001-05:002010-09-03T22:53:04.494-05:00Only 45 more days.Sometimes, my heart mimics a love song. Others, it screams pessimistic thoughts like no other. It's strange the way things work out, I guess.<br />
Have you heard that dreams always mean something? Maybe the pessimistic side of me encouraged my dream the other night. It was heartbreaking.<br />
In the dream, he had just gotten home. At first, everything was wonderful. We were getting back to our normal routine of hanging out, and the way I like to think of it- back to being in love.<br />
Then, him and I are going on a trip with a group. It turns out he has two other girlfriends that are also there. He's very open about it, and basically thinks he's the stuff. Now, let me point out this is nothing like the real him. I couldn't actually imagine this happening. Anyways, back to the dream.<br />
In the beginning, I'm going along with it because I just can't fathom what is going on exactly. Then , I demand him to choose. Of course, I assume he'll choose me. I mean, why wouldn't he? But I'm sure you can guess what happened next- He chooses another girl.<br />
My eyes begin to tear up, "What?" I stand there in silence for what seems like the longest minute of my entire life while I watch the two of them together with happiness radiating from their bodies.<br />
"What about everything you said? You loved me, you wanted to marry me some day, you were so lucky to have me, I was perfect. What about all that?" I said, then a smile came across his face like it took no effort to speak the words he said next, "I lied."<br />
I could feel those words stabbing me in the heart. I had never experience emotional pain like I had felt, and it was all just a dream.<br />
For the rest of the day, the dream was all I thought about. It was long, and vivid.<br />
<br />
Like I mentioned above, I really don't see this happening, but It still hurt. I just wish he was home now, because then I know I wouldn't have thoughts like these. Only forty-five more days, and he's home.<br />
It's already been longer than that since the last time I saw him, and in only seven more days we will have been together for six months.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-12268719196009138392010-08-31T00:00:00.000-05:002010-08-31T00:00:23.058-05:00My guilty pleasureNaturally, Miley Cyrus is my jam. Seriously.<br />
I just downloaded all the songs available from her new album on Bee Mp3 (because I wouldn't go as far to pay for it)<br />
I plan to burn it on a disc, and put it in my car. Oh yes, lovely I know.<br />
<br />
Give her a change, and have a listen to her new songs. They are very catchy/danceable. I recommend you listen to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Liberty Walk</span> first.<br />
<br />
Do it.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-18824739857372844072010-08-29T23:12:00.000-05:002010-08-29T23:12:28.685-05:00"Let's do something Crazy"seven hours later ------> "Oh my goodness, when I said 'let's do something crazy, I was kidding. Tonight was epic."<br />
<br />
<br />
We went from Mexican to bowling, bowling to the store, the store to Walmart, Walmart to Burger King, Burger King to Walmart, Walmart to C-hill, C-hill to back roads, back roads to my house, my house to Kyle's house, Kyle's house to Lauren's house.<br />
<br />
Somewhere in that, it got crazy. Where that was exactly? Your guess is probably as good as mine.<br />
<br />
Let's not go into details.<br />
<br />
<br />
Oh, this is my party hat hahahaha (well picture from online, it looks basically like it.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuFEXtEzrUBZj8ZRvUYmAt4GNrEOGWh3Exx3YvzuLBz0ncD0Djoyvu2xDjh9GLXp2uZy4FN45rVVgVHxkfalLXeTeDIby9tqfbuCFIDk8EbzC1Kn2lhKsTmEkCrSemvNDvUAeWRftw08/s1600/Party+hat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuFEXtEzrUBZj8ZRvUYmAt4GNrEOGWh3Exx3YvzuLBz0ncD0Djoyvu2xDjh9GLXp2uZy4FN45rVVgVHxkfalLXeTeDIby9tqfbuCFIDk8EbzC1Kn2lhKsTmEkCrSemvNDvUAeWRftw08/s320/Party+hat.JPG" /></a></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-25360615554409750692010-08-29T22:32:00.000-05:002010-08-29T22:32:37.364-05:00Biology will be the death of me. Dear Mrs Webb,<br />
Science classes ruin my life. I honestly believe it's just a bunch of unnecessary writing. I promise I'll never need this in life, I'm sure I can teach seven year olds with out it. Thanks for trying though. How about we make a deal? You pass me, and I'll stop talking in class. You won't have to yell at me ever again. To make sure of that, I'll just go to sleep.<br />
Sound like a plan? I sure think so.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Love, Jamie. </div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-25810217189593392442010-08-18T21:33:00.000-05:002010-08-18T21:33:46.211-05:00I've said it before, and I'll say it againI absolutely, positively love Wednesdays. It's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">my</span> day.<br />
<br />
I actually had a legit blog post planned out in my mind, but then . . . . Brian called.<br />
Shall I remind you, the last day I spoke to him was June 28th.<br />
It was a short phone call, but oh so lovely. He said he'll be calling back Saturday, and it will probably be longer. I am so pumped!<br />
<br />
Other than that today, I had a little cleat malfunction. They <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">both<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">tore today, so I had to go buy a new pair. They are beast. Black, with a yellow nike (check mark?)</span></span><br />
<br />
I also hung out with Carson, which was cool. She came along with me as I bought my new cleats, and we hit up walmart and KFC afterwards.<br />
<br />
Church was great. I talked to Brian's parents, which I always loved. I'm boarder line obsessed with his family. Yeah, that's a creeper statement right there. Anyways . . In class we did "Bible drills" and I actually found a few things! haha of course, other people found them first, or Alix, because she always knows. (:<br />
<br />
Oh, and I felt important when a girl friend of mine sent me a text asking fashion advice. It feels great having new friends.<br />
<br />
This year is starting off great (:<br />
Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-5568039821070097092010-08-14T21:03:00.000-05:002010-08-14T21:03:17.132-05:00What a wonderful day (: Today is the first day I haven't felt like a complete loser in a while.<br />
It started rather early for a Saturday, I woke up and 6:50, and left my house at 7. Then, I had the joy of riding a bus for an hour and a half to go to our soccer games. We won the first 3-2, and the second we only played one half and then it got called due to the fact the heat index was 107 degrees.<br />
Afterwards, our team hit up Mickey D's and the headed back to the school. Both bus rides there and back I slept mostly.<br />
I drove home, showered, and then got ready to leave again. I ended up going to eat mexican with Stacey and Katey. The plan was to go to the football jamboree afterwards, but it was delayed because of the heat. So then we went to Sonic, the dollar store, and Staci's house for around ten minutes. About that time, it was time for the games to start.<br />
We paid for our way in, and found a seat. Then, Lauren enlightened me with the fact that it was delayed another half hour because of lightening. For a little while, we stuck around and talked to Kelsy, but then it looked as if it was about to pour any minute so we headed back to my car. Less than a minute after we got in, the rain started fallen.<br />
We made a trip to Shell, and then back to Stacey's house. Katey had to leave not that long after we got that, but I stuck around and talked to Staci for a while. It was quite enjoyable, I haven't really ever hung out with her, but she's always been around. She's a soccer manager, and she goes to my church. As a matter of fact, she's riding with me to church in the morning.<br />
<br />
Good day, I'd say (:Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-51659003615763694242010-08-13T20:23:00.000-05:002010-08-13T20:23:25.445-05:00This man is a genius.<object style="background-image: url("http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/dMH0bHeiRNg/hqdefault.jpg");" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dMH0bHeiRNg?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dMH0bHeiRNg?fs=1&hl=en_US" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-32682181361497282422010-08-12T21:09:00.000-05:002010-08-12T21:09:12.450-05:00Blast from the past.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">I thought post experts from my past blog post, so you are keyed in. Basically, it's a bunch of random talk about boys and boredom. Go figure.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"I like the starburst commercial about contradictions, I always giggle at the albino life guard."</span>-July 22, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Then Ashley, Erin, and I ate breakfast for the first time at school; I ate cereal with a spork. It was epic."</span>- August 10, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Oh my goodness. I want to beat my head against the wall right now, Kyle just mentioned wanting to be able to be here to hold and kiss me. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Why can’t this boy take a hint!? I’m not so sure turning him down nicely is working out"</span> August 12, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Nine things about myself:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">1. I love my eyes.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">2. Even though I suck, I enjoy soccer very much, and I am defiantly planning on getting better.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">3. I can't reach the top hook of locker :(</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">4. I sometimes watch disney. And this started recently. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">5. I dream of having his last name (:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">6. If I could have any drawing ability, I'd love to take art class. To bad I don't.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">7. I would be lost without a book and my ipod.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">8. I Should be a sophomore .</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">9. I wish I went to church."</span> August 13, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"So some things have happened since you last spoke to me. Like the fact that I am a single woman." </span>September 21, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Before he left we were just hugging on each other, and I told him he wasn't getting anything else then, so he just kissed me on the fore head . . . It was kind of sweet, you had to be there. ha.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">but yeah . . . I know you have a comment Meg, so I'll just stop now til I see it ;)" </span>September 30, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Then, in math I just didn't feel like talking or doing anything, I just hurried with my work and laid my head down. I didn't even want to sleep. While I was doing this though I listened to the bad kids talk about getting high and there probation officers. One had an ankle bracelet on. Pretty interesting." </span>November 8, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"The Single Life </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Okay, so it's not exactly "the single" life, more like the "it's complicated" life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Why must everything be complicated in life? Why can't anything every be easy? The best of things always have their downsides.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Facebook</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Possibly, my new best friend. Yes, sad."</span> November 23, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"I'm probably like everyother typical teenage girl, with an occasional difference.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I'm a fan of facebook, texting, and Twilight. Edward Cullen is my dream man, with a little bit of Jacob on the side.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Where some don't understand/ like Bella, I do. I feel she could understand me, unlike anyone else, if she was real of course. And yes, I realize, as a fictional character she is meant to be that way . . but still." </span>November 25, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Happy 17th birthday (:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I hope it had a turn for the better, you truely deserve it more than anyone I know. I wish I knew more people like you Megs. Stay happy, because your depressed post make me sad!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">You are my blogger idol, my big sister, my best mormon friend [ :) ], a header-making Queen, a great person at heart, and the only person I know who has a life sized Taylor Lautner in there bedroom. That my friend, is plenty to be happy and feel special about.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Think of all the great things all your other friends have to say, and all the more things I could say.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">And yes, this would be obnoxiously big if blogger would let me, but for some reason won't. :)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">-Jamie" </span>November 27, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Buddy the Elf; What's your favorite color?"</span> November 27, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Boys. Oh sweet, sweet boys. How I love you so."</span> November 28, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"For the first time in eleven months and twelve days, I feel . . . single. It feels . . . odd, but okay." November 30, 2009</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Ugh, the thought of the future, even the word, is making me want to puke. Or maybe that's just the sickness coming back? Maybe he is the sickness. My emotional self is sick, so my physical self is sick? He'd like that; it being about him."</span> December 1, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Jamie</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Yeah, I know.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">So,a girl like me, would or wouldn't make the cut?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">10:02pmBrian</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">i dont know....would you?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">10:03pmJamie</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I think so"</span> - December 6, 2009<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"He likes me. He said so himself. Score."</span>- December 7, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Ahh, the Brian thing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Well, I never actually met Brian before last week. He had added me on facebook, and via Facebook chat I asked him who he was. He ended up not knowing me, but he did go to my school. That night we talked for an hour, and mostly everyday since, besides the weekend, we've talked a few hours on facebook.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Like I said, he goes to my school, a senior. He's on cross country, and he's kinda short haha. A little taller than me. That's okay though, he's really nice (: Megan, if you knew him, you'd aprove.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Anyways, evenually I found this liking for him. And long story short, he told me he liked me too (:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">For now, he's my friend, but there's potential. :)"</span> December 8, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Girls and drama. It sounds so horrible together, yet goes so well. Who likes it anyways? Why don't we all just write our feelings in blogs . . ."</span> December 10, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"As for that other boy, Brian, I had an awkward day yesterday. For 4th block, Cross country had to come sit in the class room with soccer. That's an hour and a half ladies and gents.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Well, We probably spoke a total of six minutes, and that was at the very in. Atleast half the class, I was within five feet of him. I kept looking at him, and as I looked away I could see him looking at me. Or maybe I imagined that? Half of the class he was reading and listening to his Ipod, then he was playing cards. We shared randon glances and smiles a few times, and finally I used the opportunity to say "Hi." with my nervous smile. I'm sure my face was friend . . . At least my friends said it was. I could feel it. He smiled and said "Well, hi." and there on he was actually very talkative. The bell rang and we had to say our goodbyes.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Maybe he was just waiting for me to say something?? Who knows. When I got home, we talked for about three hours on facebook.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It would be so much easier if I could just read that boys mind. Heck, all boys while we are at it. Agreed? Thank you." </span>December 10, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Facebook Chat</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Brian</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">well.... =) today i asked out anna brown =) and she said yes =) so that made my day amazing =) so thats interesting =)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">5:00pmJamie</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">interesting, yes."</span> December 11, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"So, today I just realized just how stupid I am. I was actually going to date Kyle, because he has wanted me too for months. Of course him and his sucky timing, he just got back with Amy. This is what? The 23435 time he's got with her, or not left her, while he's telling me he wants to be with me and likes me more.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Me+boys= never going to work out. Ugh."</span> December 14, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"A-rah A-ray Here's a post about today (:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Do you not just love how that rhymed? Yes, I must say, I have skills. Not. Today was one of those days where when you lay in bed that night you think. "Wow, today was a good day."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It started out at the dreaded hour of six. I was tired, or course, and my memories of it were somewhat of a blur. I do remember coming into Spanish late, due to my Mother's lack of ability to find cloths. We soon started our exam, which was exceptionally easy. I made a 113 out of 115. I was happy. Then, I had Algebra. Guess you didn't miss a single problem on her exam? Jamie. Guess who was the best grade in her class? Jamie. Heck Yeah. I was happy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I should've left school at eleven, but didn't. I thought this would ruin the happy, but didn't. As I walked the almost empty halls to 3rd block, I realized that I actually liked that class when we weren't doing work. At first I talked to Spenser. He's awesome haha. Him and I have a secret handshake. Yes, we are that cool. I spoke a little to Garrick, trying to be super nice. Yesterday, he convinced to Spenser and I that he had given up on love. I felt bad for him :( He's very open on the fact that he likes me, so it sometimes makes trying to be nice awkward. He has good intentions though. After this I went and hung out at Coach Porter's desk and played some game on the computer with her and Devyn. I was having a good time, and then something even better happened. A announcement come on over the intercom saying on the bell, all high school students who were eating lunch report to the cafeteria. You see, I normally have last lunch, which is obviously no fun. So first lunch, was awesome! None of my usually crowd was there, so I found a nice little seat with Roslyn, Staci, Deni, and Cameron. I wasn't very talkive for some reason. But, it was fine. Brian was in the cafe, and I had passed him with out saying a word. The second time I passed he said something along the lines of "Why didn't you say hey?" and of course I replied with "Well, why didn't you?" It followed with about a minutes worth of pointless conversation, that made me shamelessly giddy inside. I don't even know why really, but it's nice. It helped the happiness."</span> December 18, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Oh my, I want to live in Utah. It sounds perfect to me. I love the morals, the innocents, the atmosphere, the pretty boys, all of it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Cute Mormon family, adopt me. I prefer to live in Pleasant Grove, but anything in okay."</span> December 28, 2009<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Ha. I just googled someone, and I actually found something legit. I thought it was funny. You should try it some times (:"</span> January 1, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Since New Years is my favorite holiday, and is usually awaited, it seems a little unrealistic that it's here.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">For most people, New Years is the time for a New start. Now, I realize that you can't just start over the moment the clock hits twelve. I do however, find it encouraging. I like to imagine there's hope for change in anything my heart desires. I like to imagine it's a new start for myself.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's the one time the year that I can assure you I will not be pessimistic about any(most) situations." </span>January 2, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"2010; New Decade</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's here. A new decade. Ten years ago, I was in Kindergarten. I still remember those days . . . I started it in Alabama, I was born there. I had this best friend named Callie who I had been best friend's for as long as I can remember. She lived two or three houses down. We even went to day care/preschool together. I have quite a couple memories of times with her. She would come over to my house, and we would play on my swing set, and sometimes ride our tricycles in my carport. I remember coming inside and my mom making us Mac & Cheese. For some reason, we would share what was on our underwear, and we found it very fascinating that Santa had brought us both Rugrats underwear. Aaah . . . Those were the days. (: I was even the k-3rd Harvest Queen at my school. Cool, eh?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">But then, we moved to Tennessee. When we lived in Alabama, my grandparent's (dad's side) use to live next door. They had moved to Tennessee. Then my aunt died in a car crash, and I hear it was hard on my Dad. I think that was one of the reasons we moved, but hey I was five, I'm not completely sure. So, we moved. I guess we were at the end of Kindergarten, since I have a year book, but not completely sure. In all, I was in three different schools that year.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I'm pretty sure I just started to ramble, but my point was going to be ten years may seem a long time, but really, it's not.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Ten years holds a lot of memories, that will eventually be over before you know it. It makes you think to cherish time, and not to wish it away. It makes me realize that even thought It goes by faster than some may think, a lot can happen, a lot can change. I mean, sure I was five and it may not completely count, but I would have never thought I would be where I was today. Living in Tennessee, divorced parents, a little brother, a grade behind, dating (or not, I don't even know) who I'm or have dated."</span> January 2, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Today I went to Famous Daves, and our waiter was smoking; smoking hot. He had this whole Lumber Jack thing going on with his hair and facial hair. If you look past that being rather strange, you'd find him sexy."</span>January 11, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Once upon a time, there was a girl. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She wasn't a princess, or an unhappy step child, and she surely wanted to be neither.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Sure, she had her times when she felt just as lucky as that princess, and times when she felt as low as that unhappy step child.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She was just your average girl though.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She had hopes and dreams; She had doubts and fears; She had secrets and desires.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">As of now, there isn't much to her story, and what there is is only the beginning. The beginning of the beginning really.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Shall we say, Chapter one? Chapter two? Heck, maybe even chapter three, but all in all, whatever the case is, it doesn't have much importance.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The beginning of her story was never told, leaving the rest destined to be unheard. What good story has never been told? Defiantly not any that I've heard.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">So from this point on, her story will be told, from the one and only possible author.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Herself.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She shall tell her story through written words inspired by every aspect that only every girl has. She shall also hold it close to her, for her story in sacred.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Maybe for her eyes only even?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She may choose.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's what she thinks.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's what she does.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's who she tells.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's who she trust.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's what she dreams.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's what she desires.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's what she fears.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's hers.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">It's her Unspoken Words From the Heart."</span> January 11, 2010<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Hello March. I have plans for you."</span> March 1, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"My blog as became a place for statements, rather than post. So would you like to read a new statement?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I'm hoping the whole "One door closes, another door opens" things is positive. I feel as if I am now on a new chapter, and I'm sitting on the edge of my sit waiting for what I'll read next. I know not too many people read my blog, but I'm requesting you to wish me luck, in your mind or comments. Either is fine. I'd appreciate it." March 8, 2010</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"What enjoyment to people get out of trying to ruin a good thing? Especially when that good thing is something your "friend" has.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Yesterday, my so called friend goes off and twist my words and then tells me the person she told was just getting on her nerves so she was trying to make her mad. If you want to make a person mad, is it really necessary to throw your friend under the bus and put words in her mouth. Then, admit, you were just annoyed and said it. How immature can you get?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">THEN. The day after, after you had a talk with the so called friend about how what they did was wrong, they go off and tell what they SWORE not to tell.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">gehhhhhhhfnkaverpf9u4wedfh98cvhrnbvpf9vghnetbvphnfuivaekrlgvp0r8ivnlregkv98nrebv8r9ea</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I was having a great day too. Thanks for ruining it person."</span> March 11, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Brian . . . the current boyfriend. We've been together for a short amount of time, but I really like him. I'm starting to think more and more that I made the right decision. He's a senior at my school, but he's not really the typical guy. He is really sweet, you all would like this boy. The first time we went out was last Friday. We went to Logan's, walked around the mall, and to the movies. Since then, he's met my mom and she really likes him. I met his mom too, which I hear said I was sweet (I sure hope so) and she was really nice. She seemed like a cool mom (: He takes me home from school, which I really enjoy, and we've taken a good amount of trips to sonic haha You gotta love chapel hill, sonic is the hot spot. Oh, we also go "running", which really consist of walking with a seldom jog. We are suppose to be really running on Monday, I don't know if I'm dreading it or excited yet. Anyways . . . I think the point of this was that I like him. He has nice potential (: Oh- Like I mentioned, he's a senior, and that means Prom. I'm not really sure how I feel about that either, but hey how many girls in my grade get a chance to go to prom? So . . . yeah. Comment?"</span> March 12, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"So it seems I have met a boy who could do some serious damage to my heart. Maybe, I'm just delusional. Yes, that is probably it. I kind of like it though, so I'll accept it."</span> March 21, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Dear You,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">After telling you my secret today,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I hoped with all my heart you wouldn't tell.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I hope I truly can trust you, as the friend I hope I have.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dear You,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">You're possibly my sister at heart.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">My respect for you is through the roof.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I could learn so many things from you,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">just as you could from me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Like sisters.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">If only you lived close by.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dear You,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">My mind is constantly going with thoughts concerning you.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I wonder what you really think of me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I wonder if you'll extend from the present, into the future.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Oh, and I love it when you sing in the car (:</span>" March 25, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"It's weird how things worked out though. It seems everything that was once there, was gone, and I was left to start over."</span> April 13, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Oh, and I've decided I want to be a Gleek."</span> May 18, 2010<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"Say hello to my 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She has leather, tinted windows, heated seats, and a sun roof.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">She's pretty awesome.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I love her."</span> June 7, 2010<br />
<br />
Consider yourself filled in with my passed year of blogging!Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-7824286927563972182010-08-12T16:38:00.000-05:002010-08-12T16:38:49.444-05:00Hello blogsphere We haven't really talked lately, have we? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Over all</span>, the past how ever many days have been good. How about I make a list, because everything is going to be pretty random.<br />
<br />
<ul><li>I got my driver's license, you may have saw my update below. It's nice to be able to get myself from point A to point B without having to rely on anyone else.</li>
<li>I've enjoyed school, mostly. I get told to be quite in Biology probably ever five minutes. Not just me, the entire half of the room I sit at. We are all friends. (well it may be the whole room, we're just too loud to hear them haha)</li>
<li>I went to the grocery store yesterday. Before I went in, I locked my car. Normal, right? Well, an important part of this story, is that I have a remote lock. After I lock it, I make my way in side and buy tonight's dinner for my self (this was yesterday). I grabbed some things to make pasta ( a favorite of mine). When I come out, I hit the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">unlock</span> button. Nothing happens. I try again. and again. and again. The battery is dead. Now, I know your thinking "Why freak out, just use the key to unlock it." Oh, I had that in mind the whole time. I was freaking out though. It was five o'clock, and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Rex's</span> must have been the place to be. Both of my mother's vehicle, if locked with the remote, and then unlocked any other way (key, from the inside, etc.) when the door opens, the alarm goes off. My horn is really loud too. After minutes of hoping the remote would work just one more time, I finally just unlocked the door with my key. No alarm. I was so thankful. It did reset my clock though . . Weird.</li>
<li>After the car incident, I made my way to Brian's house. No, he is not home. I was going to pick up our crabs, and eat Dinner with his mom and sister, Meghan. It was pretty enjoyable. Although, at times Mrs. Amy would walk away, and there would be awkward silence between me and Meghan. I think we were both trying to keep a conversation going. She intimidates me. </li>
<li>I've gotten lots of letters from Brian, and wrote a lot too. They are so lovely. I am so excited for him to come home in October. The 15th to be exact. It's driving me crazy waiting I'm pretty sure. I haven't talked to him since I/he left, and I'm hoping it comes any day. I'm 99.9% it will be on a week end, and probably a Saturday- So cross your fingers for this Saturday!</li>
<li>Now that school has started back, I kind of feel like I have a life again, which is a good thing. </li>
<li>Oh, I slept for fourteen hours. I probably would have slept longer if it wasn't for school. I'm guessing that takes some sort of skill.</li>
<li>This Saturday we have a soccer game. Will I play? The question I've asked myself everyday, let's hope.</li>
<li>Next month, I plan to go to <a href="http://fhu.edu/rush">RUSH</a> , and I'm pretty excited. I've never been to Freed- Hardeman, and since I'm boarder lined obsessed, It's about time I go.</li>
</ul><br />
<br />
As I'm sure you all know, my life isn't all that epic, and usually isn't that interesting. So, for now, I must go. Besides, I'm hungry and sleepy. I'm going to fix myself food, and then debate with my self my plans for tonight and when I should go to sleep.<br />
<br />
Oh- I'm working on a post with "quotes" of past blog post I wrote that are no longer here. Interesting? Hopefully.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-25128624739864841212010-08-10T22:34:00.000-05:002010-08-10T22:34:10.223-05:00A Tennessee Licensed Driver.<div style="text-align: center;"> Hello world, I can drive. About time! </div><div style="text-align: center;">I passed my test with flying colors.</div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-67724949214784669882010-08-10T06:49:00.001-05:002010-08-10T20:56:41.396-05:00My excuse Last night, I was really and truly going to blog, but then my body decided to sleep for fourteen hours instead. For about a week now, I've been going to sleep at 2 am, and waking up between 6 and 9 am depending on the day. Obviously, I haven't been getting the proper amount of sleep.<br />
Yesterday, I came home and laid down for a nap about four. My mom woke me up at ten to tell me something, then I continued my slumber.<br />
I must blogged later today I suppose, but I have places to go and people to see. I'm going to get my driver's license. That's right, Megs. No more making fun of me.<br />
After that I'll be off to school.<br />
<br />
Have a great day everyone (:Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-67451173783068506752010-08-05T21:22:00.000-05:002010-08-05T21:22:05.419-05:00You know it's bad when you have to pack for school Finally, I'm packed. Yeah- for school.<br />
Since I have soccer first block, I'm just going to wear my practice cloths to school. No need to get pretty either.<br />
So basically, the plan is to wake up- throw practice cloths on, brush my teeth and hair, then leave. Should take five minutes.<br />
I have to be at school at 7:15, although I'll probably stop and get some breakfast. Apparently, a lot of people are going to do that since we have till 7:30 to get ready. We're planning on investing in a microwave, and possibly a refrigerator, for our locker room.<br />
We have break after first block, which would give us 30 extra minutes to get ready if we'd life. It usually takes about a week before they let us have break at the beginning of school. Maybe this year we will automatically have it since we have homeroom in the mornings now, and that's were we went instead previous years. Speaking of that, I'm curious to how we are going to get all the papers they hand out if we don't go to homeroom. I doubt someone would be bright enough to get them for us. We'll see.<br />
<br />
Let's hope I look decent going to second block.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-58370720181617111992010-08-04T22:36:00.000-05:002010-08-04T22:36:41.528-05:00and so it begins Today was the first day of my sophomore year. High school students gathered into the new gym, where everyone said their hellos, and then were sent to there homeroom classes.<br />
There, we were given our schedules. Then- we went around to each class. I have:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">1st semester-</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">Soccer</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">-</span> It's usually 4th block, but this year they made it first. Wonderful. Everyone loves getting sweaty before they really start their day. Rumor is, we'll get to use the showers that the football players use, because they got to keep 4th athletics and won't be around. I guess a pro to have soccer first is we won't have to go to homeroom first. School has always started at 7:30. Well, this year, it starts at 7:15, and that extra time is spent in homeroom. Anyone with 1st block athletics doesn't have to attend though.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">Lifetime Wellness-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> The teacher in this class is Coach Hill. One of the worst. Yay. It seems there are some pretty good people in there though, so I'm excited for that. That will be convent when we start walking.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">French 1</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">- Everyone says this class is easy. I'm sure it will be better than Mrs. Stubblefield's spanish class. Our class is over run by sophomores, and usually the majority of students are freshman. Thanks to this lovely thing we have called </span>Focus Areas</span> (kind of like a Major for highschool). My focus area, and many others, is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Humanities</span>. Therefore, I have to take three extra classes that are either languages or histories.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">Biology 1-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> We only have about 15 kids in this class, and apparently it's my biology teacher's smallest class. This year, our school got decided we needed more than one teacher for the subject, and I got the new teacher- Mrs. Webb. Hopefully, she'll be better than the other teacher, because usually everyone fails that class till the end.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">2nd semester-</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">French 2</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">World History</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">Geometry</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">English 2</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">I did end up getting a lot of classes with friends which is good. Carson, probably the friend I talk to most, is in my first three classes. Until these past few weeks, we didn't really talk at all, but a year or two ago we were really good friends. Since we have so many classes together, hopefully we'll be good friends again. We already making plans to hang out. </div><div style="text-align: left;">I also have classes with Lauren, Kayla, Deni, and Ashley. I talked to them a lot last year.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Another Ashley, is in my french class. In 6th grade, we were <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">best</span> friends. Then, the next few years we didn't have any classes together and stopped talking. Hopefully this helps rekindle the friendship, which would be cool.</div><div style="text-align: left;">There are various other people I am excited to hang out with, but they don't really have a back story. Just people I'd like to be friends with.</div><div style="text-align: left;">I would like to be friends with everyone, and not have any drama! I'm sure that won't happen though . . .</div><div style="text-align: left;">There was already drama today, and it was only two and a half hours of school. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">High school</span>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Our school also started this thing were your parents can get online and see your grades and missing assignments. They can also see if you are on the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ICU</span> list, and yes, that stands for <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Intensive Care Unit.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yeah- we're a hospital now. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I have last lunch, which is find with me. Last year I had last lunch 1st semester, and first lunch the 2nd semester. I enjoy last lunch, because after you finish eating you don't have to go back to the class you were just at.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Hopefully, this year will be the best yet. I say that every year, but I'm not real sure how that's worked out for me. So far, I think my favorite year was 8th grade.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyways . . Wish me luck. Our first full day is Friday.</div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-22840519914418353762010-08-04T19:22:00.000-05:002010-08-04T19:22:09.374-05:00Bucket List; Before I'm 201. own a pair of Keds<br />
2. get a tan<br />
3. go out of the country<br />
4. have a favorite sweater<br />
5. own a Kindle<br />
6. run 4 miles, in 40 minutes<br />
7. buy and complete an entire coloring book <br />
8. inspire someone<br />
9. write a book<br />
10. score a goal in Soccer<br />
11. have a life changing experiance. (for the better)<br />
12. do volunteer work<br />
13. go to Utah and/or have Utah come to me<br />
14. find the perfect swim suit<br />
15. keep a blog the entire time<br />
15. go on a hike<br />
16. drive in with friends<br />
17. have 73 blog followers<br />
18. graduate<br />
19. go to FHU (or other college of my choice)<br />
20. tell a speech to 50+ people<br />
21. hug a stranger<br />
22. run a 10k<br />
23. recieve a worthy love letter<br />
24. go to sleep before 10 PM for a week<br />
25. wear converse to prom; be cliche<br />
26. learn the single ladies dance<br />
27. swim a mile<br />
28. be a vegetarian for a week<br />
29. get a Henna tattoo<br />
30. make someone dinner<br />
31. go on "the perfect date"<br />
32. keep a planner for a year<br />
33. laugh till I cry<br />
34. fall in love / stay in love<br />
35. send Megan a package<br />
36. finally have a cool thumb ring<br />
37. movie marathon<br />
38. win something important<br />
39. write an amazing letter<br />
40. watch an entire sharkweek <br />
<br />
(Will be added to until # 50)Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-83033755037714918252010-08-02T22:28:00.001-05:002010-08-02T22:29:23.161-05:00Life isLife is like a taxi. The meter just keeps a-ticking whether you are getting somewhere or just standing still. - Lou Erickso<br />
<br />
Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.<br />
Life is beauty, admire it.<br />
Life is bliss, taste it.<br />
Life is a dream, realize it.<br />
Life is a challenge, meet it.<br />
Life is a duty, complete it.<br />
Life is a game, play it.<br />
Life is a promise, fulfill it.<br />
Life is sorrow, overcome it.<br />
Life is a song, sing it.<br />
Life is a struggle, accept it.<br />
Life is a tragedy, confront it.<br />
Life is an adventure, dare it.<br />
Life is luck, make it.<br />
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.<br />
Life is life, fight for it.<br />
-Mother Teresa <br />
<br />
Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once. ~Lillian Dickson<br />
<br />
Life is like riding a bicycle. You don't fall off unless you plan to stop peddling.-- Claude PepperLife is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can. ~Danny Kaye<br />
<br />
Life is like an hourglass. When everything hits the bottom, someone will be there to turn it around.- Unknown<br />
<br />
Life is like a ten-speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use.- Unknown<br />
<br />
Life is like a pack of gum- and I have yet to find out why- unknownJamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-78107500742110041182010-08-02T18:42:00.000-05:002010-08-02T18:42:12.227-05:00facebook stalking. Everyone does it. Either it's someone you love, someone you hate, someone you idealize, someone you heard gossip about, someone your curious about, or maybe someone you think is cute. Today, I spent an hour facebook stalking teen moms/ teen moms to be.<br />
It all started with this one 17 teen year old girl, or I don't know very well but use to hate me for no apparent reason. It turns out, she's been married for months, and she has a baby on the way. I kept going done her wall, reading the various status updates, and wall comments. I also looked at her pictures, and photo comments. She acts as if this is the best time of her life, and it just amazes me. Through comments, I found another girl her age who just recently had a baby.<br />
I don't really understand my fascination with this, I guess it's the same reason people enjoy watching shows like <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">16 & Pregnant, </span>and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Teen Mom</span>. Which I don't necessarily think should be on TV.<br />
<br />
Around prom, I stalked prom pictures of course, and I found one girl who was pregnant, going to prom, and taking pictures with her<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> current </span>child.<br />
I guess as I get older, I realize how big an issue teen pregnancy really is, because I'm actually knowing/ know of these girls, because they are my age. This last school year, I know of four or five girls who either didn't come back/ quit because of this issue, or became pregnant. I go to a rather small school too.<br />
I guess I'm blogging about this, because it made me think, and I suppose this could get you to thinking. I've always said I wanted to have children <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">young</span>, but I'm talking after college young. With these girls, having children <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">young</span> is a whole different meaning.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-43157511089164200182010-08-02T00:37:00.002-05:002010-08-02T00:37:43.776-05:00A song to listen to<div><table width=320 border=0><tr><td><center><object width="320" height="200"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7NJqUN9TClM&&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7NJqUN9TClM;color1=FCE69A&color2=FCE69A&fs=1&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="200"></embed></object><br></center><table align=center width=320 height=30 bgcolor=#FCE69A><tr><td height=3></td></tr><tr><td><table width=100%><tr><td width=210 style="border: 0pt none ; margin: 0pt; padding: 3pt; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; vertical-align: midle; text-align: center;"><font> Download this mp3 from <a href="http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=7780461&song=If+I+Die+Young">Beemp3.com</a></font></td><td width=100><img src="http://pl.beemp3.com/player/logo_small.gif"></td><td width=10></td></tr><tr><td height=3></td></tr></table></td></tr></table></td></tr></table></div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-53582508089700084252010-08-01T23:25:00.000-05:002010-08-01T23:25:04.123-05:00Camp Nakanawa; Cabino dias.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRjFY9JDr0h3QH9TwFu2MoXgrJuuXaXwxd1nI0y8DA8JzQTQZzAeD0WogEiX8gIDM6wkfBJ6_jtrs02SYDiFpjNg56cBjK_L_hGeGUgf3PBCh3vTV6KWf1IPcumkmFOCpU2TdCy1kjNr0/s1600/Cabin%252010.jpg_595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRjFY9JDr0h3QH9TwFu2MoXgrJuuXaXwxd1nI0y8DA8JzQTQZzAeD0WogEiX8gIDM6wkfBJ6_jtrs02SYDiFpjNg56cBjK_L_hGeGUgf3PBCh3vTV6KWf1IPcumkmFOCpU2TdCy1kjNr0/s320/Cabin%252010.jpg_595.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I spent four weeks of my summer living in a hot, none air conditioned, cabin at Camp Nakanawa in Crossville, Tennessee. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Above is my cabin, cabin 10.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We had the best cabin, hands down. We all hung out together, which most cabins don't do. (unless they were all previously good friends and requested to be in a cabin together-we did not)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This summer overall was one of the best. I actually enjoyed swimming, discovered a talent in riflery, and</div><br />
became good friends with the nurse.<br />
<br />
Mail call, was by far the highlight of my day. Sure, only four people wrote me, but it was lovely. I even got male mail, which was wonderful. haha, everyone hears about it when someone gets male mail. Gotta love camp gossip. I may be exaggerating when I say everyone, but if someone had a boy come visit, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">everyone</span> really did hear about it.<br />
<br />
The food, well the food is camp food. Imagine it yourself. A few meals are delicious, though.<br />
<br />
My "classes" included: aerobics, glee club (camp songs), running, archery, tennis, riflery, wall, swimming, soccer, and war canoe.<br />
<br />
It was a ton of fun, and I haven't made my decision about going next summer, or going to spain.<br />
<br />
Decisions, decisions.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-61964405189955844942010-08-01T22:45:00.000-05:002010-08-01T22:45:36.322-05:00Dear Future Husband; (age sixteen) It's been somewhere between five and eight months since the last letter was written. I guess a little has changed since then.<br />
As much as I think about you, I often think of me. When I do though, I wonder if I'm the same as I am now.<br />
Am I still shy, and easily embarrassed? Is it still nearly impossible for me to keep a secret? Do I still have that crazy issue with not being able to stop laughing over the stupidest things?<br />
Do I still love to read? Am I still <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">obsessed</span> with Crush soda? Is my favorite color still purple? Do I still blog?<br />
Do I over think, and stress out? Am I still eager to move forward in life? Do I still dream about the family I should be starting fairly soon?<br />
Have I gotten rid of that southern accent people always point out? Do you laugh at me when I say "Why", many people do.<br />
- I could go on, and on. I really think I'll be the same though, and I'm pretty happy with who I am for the most part.<br />
I may or may not have met you already, it's a mystery to me. At the moment, I'm dating this one boy who I could imagine being you though. I'm telling you this, because I feel like it's important for you to know where I am in life right now (if that makes sense). <br />
Before I go on, I would like to mention I know saying this could be a little awkward if you are someone differently, but truly it is not. As much as you know about me, you should defiantly know of this boy, for he is the infamous "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">first love.</span>" <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">If</span> it didn't work out, I know it was for the better, and it obviously lead to you anyways.<br />
His name is Brian, and as of right now, we've been dating for almost five months. He holds many of the qualities you have, and don't worry- he treats me very well.<br />
Our relationship moved rather fast I suppose, that causing ups and downs. The downs, have been rare, luckily.<br />
In more than one way, I feel he has <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">saved</span> me. I feel like I fit in with him, and I don't find that many other places. <br />
In my last letter, I had said "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 18px;">I dream of having a husband who will have grown up in the church, and who can introduce me to that lifestyle.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"> " Well, Brian has helped with that, by just kind of being who he is. He didn't really have to say much, just be there, and be an example for me. Which I'm very thankful of. </span></span><br />
Obviously, being a sixteen year old girl, I hope we'll last. We'll see, i guess.<br />
I'll write again soon, okay? (:<br />
I love you already, and I wish the best for you :)<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">-Your future wife, </div><div style="text-align: center;">Jamie</div>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-50096999971615323682010-07-31T21:27:00.000-05:002010-07-31T21:27:59.838-05:00Rainy Sunshine Today, I took my phone out of my pocket, and noticed it was turned off. This wasn't anything new, my phone turns off by itself all the time; it's a crappy phone. <br />
I turned my phone on, and noitced I had a voice mail. At first, I forgot which password I used for my voice mail, because It's been quiet some time since I needed to use it. I failed three times, and it hung up. I called back, and finally got it right. The first voice mail was one I hadn't deleted I got about a month and a half ago. It was one of those accidental voice mails that no one realized was being recorded and it lasted as long as the voice mail would allow it. I listened to the entire thing, due to the fact I was bored. Then, there was another saved voice mail, and it was from Brian. Listening to him talk made me smile, I missed his voice. <br />
I resaved is, and moved on. It was to my new messages, and it informed me I had two. Before it played, it said the time, it was about thirty minutes before the current time.<br />
They were both from Brian. Ugh! I'm so mad at my phone. In the words of Brian himself "I really want to talk to you, it's been over a month-wow." That's how I feel.<br />
I was so upset, and the rest of the day I kept my phone in my hand, checking every minute that it was still turned on.<br />
I hope so much that he's able to call me tomorrow.<br />
Please, please, please do. <br />
<br />
As this all was happening, it was raining while the sunshine was out. I found this to be similar to my situation. Brian called, left me a voice mail, I had heard from him-Sunshine. My phone was off, so I didn't exactly get to talk to him-rain.Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2868020823019982432.post-88328617206316812172010-07-30T02:52:00.000-05:002010-07-30T03:11:27.770-05:00Dear Future Husband; (age fifteen) Sometime along this past year, I wrote a letter to my future husband. Yes, it's a little strange, but I found it neat. If you google it, you can often find a lot of cute letters people have posted. I decided I'd post mind, even though it's not the best. I've titled this <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dear Future Husband; (age fifteen), </span>and at the moment I am writing <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dear Future Husband; (age sixteen)</span>. I guess I'll make it a tread to write once a year.<br />
Think about it, It would be cool reading this kind of things, if you were the receiver. If anyone decided to follow suit, comment me and let me know!<br />
eh, enjoy?<br />
**For the blogging record, this letter was written before I started dating Brian.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"It's a little weird writing you this letter, since I'm fifteen and possibly haven't met you yet. Something more weird is probably that I think of you almost every day. I'm not so sure that it is normal, but I don't really think I am, so I suppose it's okay. I often think of my future, and it often changes in my mind. One thing I'm always certain on is my many thoughts of you. Even now, you are so important to me. I think about how you effect almost every part of my life. You are my best friend, as I am yours. You are also my main source of happiness. I'm the girl who dreams of a husband and family. I believe if you have that love in your life, you can get by somehow.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> I think about the man you will be. I know you are far from perfect, but perfect for me. My main hope, is that you are a man of God. My family has never been the family that goes to church, and factors God's word in their everyday life, so I've never been raised that way. Oh, how I desire that though. I dream of having a husband who will have grown up in the church, and who can introduce me to that lifestyle. I've dreamed of one day raising my children this way.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Yes, our children. I suspect we'll have two or three. I just know you are going to be a wonderful father, because if I didn't see that quality I wouldn't be marrying you. Oh, and I plan to be marry when I'm twenty three, I sure hope that isn't a problem with you. (I'm not going to impose on you asking, so If I'm older, this would be awkward :] I'm thinking it will have came up in conversation by now though).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> I should probably thank you for how great you've been to me, the respect I've gotten. Again, I know this is true because otherwise you wouldn't be in the position to receive this letter.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> I wonder how we meet, I wonder if I've met you yet. I think of the typical things I suppose. Will I know it's you when I see you? Will it take a few days? A month? A year?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> I sure hope you have a good last name, because honestly, I've wished for that so many times. I hope you don't make the Jew joke at me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> This probably wasn't the greatest letter I guess, but I should get better at them I hope. You'll still love me I hope. This won't be the last letter I write, so please bare with me!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> I wait to feel the feeling of what it's like to love you, it will be stronger than any I've ever felt.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Your future wife,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Jamie</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">P.S. You can call me Wifey (:"</span>Jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01504621235064882005noreply@blogger.com0