tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41890449150386279362024-03-05T17:13:17.400-08:00While I Sip My Coffee...Judi.with.an.ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449847101287812602noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189044915038627936.post-74927341556846718012010-12-25T20:34:00.000-08:002010-12-25T21:03:03.510-08:00Apology.<div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">So I realize that I am not very good at keeping up with this blog. But, let me plead my case. For the better part of this last month, the Mister’s parents have been staying with us. You see, he has been playing and his parents have </span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">never</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"> missed a game in his life. So supportive. Which is great. However....we live in a studio apartment. With </span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">one</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"> bathroom. </span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">One</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"> bed. </span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">One</span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"> couch...Four People...Get where I’m going with this? It has been a long month. So any alone time I had was spent curled in the fetal position with a cup of coffee in one hand and a Bud Light in the other. Don’t judge me. There... I think that was a pretty justified excuse? </span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">For the record, I do love the Mister's parents</span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">They are incredible, and support us like you wouldn't believe.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">But, I do love alone time, too.</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">And....strong coffee.</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"> </span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">In the meantime, I have been doing a great deal of Christmas shopping and had fun cramming as many Christmas decorations into our tiny apartment as I could. It was like VEGAS in our home. SO fun. Speaking of Vegas, I am currently on a flight home to Colorado as we speak! I am so excited to see family and spend time with my friends!! And I am currently drinking airplane coffee, which is surprisingly yummy. Kudos, Southwest. </span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">But what about the Mister, you ask? Well the Mister is playing in Cincinnati on Sunday and he leaves VERY early on Saturday morning. Saturday being Christmas day. SO rather than spending Christmas morning alone, in an airport I said, “Babe, I love you. I’m leaving and never looking back. Adios”</span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"> Okay, so not really. But I did leave him. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Before you start scolding me, we had our Christmas last night and it was wonderful. I made a delicious roast with fried onions on top and creamy mashed potatoes with green chillis. Then we opened presents and spoiled the shit (Sorry, Grammy) out of each other. It’s what we do. Leaving him this morning at the airport was a lot harder than I expected. But I am so looking forward to seeing my family and spending Xmas with them!! AND I also get to see their faces when they open their gifts from us, which will be wonderful! </span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXoKdE7faix4bIIa2TkGRqxEIxQcwwlLR-aorU_v5tIweJSgbl_Fe7_5AS_M9pyj5bRbvP2tg0f_Qq7rhcvZwq4ApcEhJMK6X8gEg2ywgNN_umrVnA1MydRiu2h0cFIsu0BcoA7GN8XX3k/s1600/home+sweet+home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXoKdE7faix4bIIa2TkGRqxEIxQcwwlLR-aorU_v5tIweJSgbl_Fe7_5AS_M9pyj5bRbvP2tg0f_Qq7rhcvZwq4ApcEhJMK6X8gEg2ywgNN_umrVnA1MydRiu2h0cFIsu0BcoA7GN8XX3k/s1600/home+sweet+home.jpg" /></span></a></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">While I am home I have so much to do...I think this calls for a list...? </span></span></span></span></div><ol style="list-style-type: decimal;"><li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Drink coffee with mom, grammy, myself...lots of coffee.</span></span></span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Eat. </span></span></span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Spend time with my bestest friend ever, Ms. Bessie</span></span></span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Soak up as much Grammy time as I possibly can</span></span></span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Stare at the mountains</span></span></span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Play with my new camera</span></span></span></span></li>
<li style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Drink coffee</span></span></span></span></li>
</ol><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Should be a GREAT week. AND, the Mister plays in Denver on the second, so there will be football watching, too! Go Bolts! :) </span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">I promise, that I will be better about keeping up with this! Season is coming to an end...which means alone time will be a more constant occurrence. Can I get an amen?! </span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 11px/normal Baskerville; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;">Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c1130;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">image: </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #228822; font-family: arial; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">apartmenttherapy.com</span></span></div>Judi.with.an.ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449847101287812602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189044915038627936.post-31336758727498228342010-11-03T16:52:00.000-07:002010-11-03T16:52:14.235-07:00Short Ribs, Love, and Hippos<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Warning: The following, way-too-long-post, is pretty mushy and romantic. I will not be offended if you immediately click the "Back" button! </span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Monday was the third anniversary for the Mister and I. It has been the bumpiest year of all time; not just in our relationship but in my personal life and his as well. We have grown together so much this year, and learning to be supportive of each other has been the biggest lesson. There were many days in this past year when I have wanted to find a corner, grab my snuggie, curl up and just cry. But I knew he needed me to be strong for him, so I pulled myself out of it, put on my "It's all guna be fine face," (which REQUIRES waterproof mascara) and made 4 pots of coffee. And he has done just the same for me. Well, not the coffee part, he knows not to touch my coffee, but I know that if I need him, he is right by my side. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">{Speaking of my lover, I am currently enjoying an iced americano from Starbucks. Now...I don't typically drink iced coffee, however I walked here and became so sweaty that I think the people sitting around me would appreciate if I cooled off. So, iced coffee it is.}</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Back to anniversary talk- So, I had been planning to make a wonderful anniversary meal for the Mister. When, I came across Pioneer Woman's "beef short ribs" recipe it was as if lights shown down from the anniversary gods and a voice said, <i>"This shall be what you make."</i> Now, I had never made, eaten or even seen beef short ribs, but that was beside the point. They looked delicious and there is no arguing with voices you hear from the anniversary gods. You just listen and obey, so I did. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>MENU</b>:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Beef Short Ribs</div><div style="text-align: center;">Creamy Garlic Mashed Taters</div><div style="text-align: center;">Corn Bread </div><div style="text-align: center;">Veggies? Ha! Have you met my Mister? No, no veggies.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDk_uwSw7n4jpxHzeX0qZcKFc-S1xRKo5rjRlzoTl9xI9p1yWea28Ry5o8OfZtIdGdljAyU4CSgWnNLj8NhTKPUtDjvKziCaLwULtOmBZFC-_vQbwLmPOlflVoH_IQgXMP0ecjlsdIwZKS/s1600/DSCN3002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDk_uwSw7n4jpxHzeX0qZcKFc-S1xRKo5rjRlzoTl9xI9p1yWea28Ry5o8OfZtIdGdljAyU4CSgWnNLj8NhTKPUtDjvKziCaLwULtOmBZFC-_vQbwLmPOlflVoH_IQgXMP0ecjlsdIwZKS/s320/DSCN3002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This was before it went in the oven for 3 1/2 hours</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yes, that is bacon, on top of ribs, don't judge me, I followed the recipe.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">For those who don't know me, I make cards and scrapbook. And if you have one of my cards, you're welcome. I know its awesome. Did you frame it? Put it on display? Cause I would do that. Maybe, shine a light on it?.... Just sayin'. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> This is the card I made the Mister</span>...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvHpxceMyyfeo2dzMwwH1nnRpXiAbLJV-kUefieiRGHKkSjWpfXfb3AuomkPAXo9RFnfuPkZoBGM9IDnMyKU_Tp3ovkdi7Nd6URkd5AuUhVWeUqWefMDum6INhURR_rgfZoY_aohi1Keuf/s1600/DSCN3005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvHpxceMyyfeo2dzMwwH1nnRpXiAbLJV-kUefieiRGHKkSjWpfXfb3AuomkPAXo9RFnfuPkZoBGM9IDnMyKU_Tp3ovkdi7Nd6URkd5AuUhVWeUqWefMDum6INhURR_rgfZoY_aohi1Keuf/s320/DSCN3005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d; font-size: small;">I really like how it turned out. It opens up, I didn't take an inside picture though. </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Kinda hard to read, but it says, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Being in LOVE with you is my favorite thing"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">I had everything ready for when the Mister walked in the door after a hard day of practice. And with him he had roses and a gift certificate to Barnes & Nobles. I asked for two books, and he decided rather than search the bookstore (These things can be intimidating for a big football player), he would just let me do the picking! So, with the roses as my (not so center) centerpiece, here is the table!</span></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSNgiGvsdqxpKup9BN79V_KyFA9O3WJnkaHD7Y0Gi_s4NpytD324ku-_ZbkssNqljZgXAaK_f_djIEnVgrfZJ2R6DO7SPlZCBGpliwQ_En6qfiu-leEiAIR9SsSCcxgUDi8NwmHGwPjVJ/s1600/DSCN3030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSNgiGvsdqxpKup9BN79V_KyFA9O3WJnkaHD7Y0Gi_s4NpytD324ku-_ZbkssNqljZgXAaK_f_djIEnVgrfZJ2R6DO7SPlZCBGpliwQ_En6qfiu-leEiAIR9SsSCcxgUDi8NwmHGwPjVJ/s320/DSCN3030.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCBki3HJZaXXiTlsstOcrZPAar6KuPPd5sR-YkWq_HIwoCI-5Tq5SDi1_Hfi3AYS8jcbuJ4leam_m0rIsNlkU1uMD5vcIsLHX7Y6-7B95BGsFBnDu_SKV-BZFCuhFZAp6P4GlVnSvmfq8/s1600/DSCN3032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCBki3HJZaXXiTlsstOcrZPAar6KuPPd5sR-YkWq_HIwoCI-5Tq5SDi1_Hfi3AYS8jcbuJ4leam_m0rIsNlkU1uMD5vcIsLHX7Y6-7B95BGsFBnDu_SKV-BZFCuhFZAp6P4GlVnSvmfq8/s200/DSCN3032.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">The Ribs were AMAZING. So tender and juicy.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">The "rib sauce" was incredible on the taters.</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I had planned on making Monkey Bread for dessert, but we decided that going for ice cream was a better idea. So, we went to Baskin' Robbins where I got coffee ice cream in a waffle cone bowl, and when I tasted it, I passed out and dropped to the floor. Then, the Mister kicked me awake and I finished my ice cream in one bite. Needless to say, I really like coffee ice cream. After that we went home and played Scrabble and watched a movie.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">{Why are you laughing? Yes, we actually played Scrabble. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yes, we have a Scrabble board. Yes, it was my idea. </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I love making the tiles perfectly straight. </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yes I have to beg him to play with me... </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">No, I didn't win...</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't want to talk about Scrabble anymore.}</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Sorry, the mushy anniversary talk isn't over yet. I warned you. It went on to Tuesday, because Tuesdays are the ONE day of the week that I have the Mister home ALL DAY. And usually he wants to sit on the couch, watch movies, eat cream of wheat, and do absolutely nothing. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(Have I mentioned that I HATE making cream of wheat? </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hate it, I hate stirring the milk and cleaning the ridiculously sticky pot.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But the Mister loves it. </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I love the Mister, so I make it.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But, for the record, I hate cream of wheat.} </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">So, on Tuesdays, I have to beg, and whine and annoy him just enough to get him off the couch and then we follow the plans I made 4 days ago. It's what I do. This Tuesday, I decided we should go to the San Diego Zoo and we did. I win! :) It was a BLAST! That place is huge, we were there for 5 hours! We went straight for the Hippos, because they are my most, absolute favorite animal in the world. Spent a good 20 minutes there talking to them through the very dirty glass in my most perfect Hippo voice. (Similar to my puppy voice, but just a hair different.) The Mister sat patiently on the benches waiting for me to shut up, then we walked around the rest of the zoo, rode the Gondola, looked at many wonderful animals, and saw a Gorilla fight (way cool).</span></div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjMa99zLJlhmCYx7ufmz71gQT_gLSpbT-VZCxVdn5vxh2CdwPw8sCEiN7sMrFawS5NzzzwqPPInoDPI13-2V0hjvRJ-hB3LKai7o3pq2Ibb61yHDn1-bea96YokCxcYmqxIo3Q-Xo-ymV/s1600/DSCN3052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjMa99zLJlhmCYx7ufmz71gQT_gLSpbT-VZCxVdn5vxh2CdwPw8sCEiN7sMrFawS5NzzzwqPPInoDPI13-2V0hjvRJ-hB3LKai7o3pq2Ibb61yHDn1-bea96YokCxcYmqxIo3Q-Xo-ymV/s320/DSCN3052.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Not a great picture, but c'mon, look at him. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You just wanna wrap your arms around him and put a big smooch on his nose. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">No? Just me? Whatever. I love him. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19GXgnqaadq2YzzNTL5fIchgHAs_n6VL0aq0b7sknUApNha9sqA5ZaUikatwC32YY-Or4vx8XeyV73NdpG4w02JCiEQg8diQs2HYK47MdLGO4Tq5KjoS3WProRCSw7UQajhjaBatYhOUo/s1600/DSCN3057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19GXgnqaadq2YzzNTL5fIchgHAs_n6VL0aq0b7sknUApNha9sqA5ZaUikatwC32YY-Or4vx8XeyV73NdpG4w02JCiEQg8diQs2HYK47MdLGO4Tq5KjoS3WProRCSw7UQajhjaBatYhOUo/s200/DSCN3057.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQ_l0RYTWBUWGVvq0w0BZvL_JuP20J8n1pCW59eMhWV4b-RX6ko9lbHfzhLyS8vrnzycLikZ_nAbsTJ0Ds5LJIkdtyWyRma_-xvaRgfddgNsR2yLJniPd9e1hS-g2gL-BoGTt58mkPiuA/s1600/DSCN3118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQ_l0RYTWBUWGVvq0w0BZvL_JuP20J8n1pCW59eMhWV4b-RX6ko9lbHfzhLyS8vrnzycLikZ_nAbsTJ0Ds5LJIkdtyWyRma_-xvaRgfddgNsR2yLJniPd9e1hS-g2gL-BoGTt58mkPiuA/s200/DSCN3118.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3kjAKNVJCZO1OV4wxUJbzDXUMBSsupj6xwbrBiX4w-xiL0RQd16QNRRXVT7QT4NYEm39CcGPiApjuWBrIl56qRbeQ06TXpwM8SYZSNKlF3A43axW1Q3vDCdTPKqO3lVjAx4J8P5KUAMzt/s1600/DSCN3120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3kjAKNVJCZO1OV4wxUJbzDXUMBSsupj6xwbrBiX4w-xiL0RQd16QNRRXVT7QT4NYEm39CcGPiApjuWBrIl56qRbeQ06TXpwM8SYZSNKlF3A43axW1Q3vDCdTPKqO3lVjAx4J8P5KUAMzt/s320/DSCN3120.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There were beautiful trees behind us, but my camera decided it wanted to ruin everything.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Thanks, camera.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It was a really great two-day anniversary, and I really love that boy. Hard to believe its been 3 years since we met. But, it's been an amazing 3 years and regardless of what city we are in, or what paths we take, I will always have this Mister by my side, cream of wheat on the stove, coffee by the potful, and weekend (Or Tuesday) plans brewin' in my head. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Judi.with.an.ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449847101287812602noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189044915038627936.post-11712620096481105932010-10-13T10:50:00.000-07:002010-10-13T10:50:51.891-07:00Feeling Lucky.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6sR7wTlq-ft2FOlr8VDGJYN1zddrCXw9g7CmYs8IdxHL7chSwbYuYnnPOAgEp778YVJaKDkW5T3eRBeIQvllhutlzxHLZXGvcMMC44lNAzoXiB12JJ4uVCHiVVZIZA9IImUXOuHTNfG59/s1600/luck.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6sR7wTlq-ft2FOlr8VDGJYN1zddrCXw9g7CmYs8IdxHL7chSwbYuYnnPOAgEp778YVJaKDkW5T3eRBeIQvllhutlzxHLZXGvcMMC44lNAzoXiB12JJ4uVCHiVVZIZA9IImUXOuHTNfG59/s200/luck.png" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Not the kind of lucky where I think I need to run to Vegas and spend all my money. I'm feeling really lucky today because, my life is pretty great. I think at times I let myself get consumed with stress and plans and... lists. If I could, I would list the steps to making coffee everyday just so I could check them off as I went. But if I let myself make a list for that.... the list making would never end. Maybe I could make a list of all the things I could make lists for? And now I'm getting carried away. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyways, back on track. As I said, I let myself get consumed with lists and plans and expectations and eventually, I get stressed out and have me a little breakdown. Then I make myself a cup (a pot) of coffee, make a kissy face to the Mister, get a kiss, relax and start making new plans and lists. It's really a vicious cycle, but it's who I am. The end.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">{I am <b>not</b> a control freak. Really, I'm not. I'm a loosey goosey...}</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This morning, I am sitting here. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Work out-done</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Coffee-made</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Today Show-on</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ridiculous list of morning routine-done. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And I was just overcome with a sense of...."lucky". I would have never guess that I would be living in California because some guy asked me to follow him around the country as he chased his dreams, but here I am. And I love my life, I really do. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The coffee is hot and life is good. I love my family and friends. And.... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm in love with the Mister. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTgNizhuhrTXR5KirNiwQm9a2VcKUhZr7WNxOcjotRLABTd24vAfAFsrKxk6SEKjRu9moZF6PZwoTIXajfA6Sv1-N2cdxqSnz7xAE3rwkgY872pK96HOQqoubBgzY7ADuZ4OesoxrXOXcB/s1600/DSCN2516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTgNizhuhrTXR5KirNiwQm9a2VcKUhZr7WNxOcjotRLABTd24vAfAFsrKxk6SEKjRu9moZF6PZwoTIXajfA6Sv1-N2cdxqSnz7xAE3rwkgY872pK96HOQqoubBgzY7ADuZ4OesoxrXOXcB/s320/DSCN2516.JPG" width="287" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-size: small;">Who wouldn't be? Look at that face</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">This is the face he makes when I try to plan our weekends 4 days in advance.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm happy. I'm lucky. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I think I need to remind myself that more often.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">{ I'll just add it to my To-Do list.} </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Image: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">kaboodle.com</span></span></div>Judi.with.an.ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449847101287812602noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189044915038627936.post-23295800473136389502010-10-01T10:04:00.000-07:002010-10-02T10:11:29.484-07:00My love affair.Drinking: Starbucks Americano with a splash of milk.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVdyp6bItAfcarl0zh6-AZb2dOOd4nTmZ1rK55bMxNHhQxWTRtZBryoE58nDHv7ub_Map76aWLVJv3Amm9zTY_6OMysfmjk8nXM9mvkIAZT_xpnscUf6qQrXUwg3d_XMpG37J9w9FasK7/s1600/coffee+addict.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVdyp6bItAfcarl0zh6-AZb2dOOd4nTmZ1rK55bMxNHhQxWTRtZBryoE58nDHv7ub_Map76aWLVJv3Amm9zTY_6OMysfmjk8nXM9mvkIAZT_xpnscUf6qQrXUwg3d_XMpG37J9w9FasK7/s1600/coffee+addict.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Growing up, coffee was always around. My mom is a coffee drinker, as are my Grammy and all of my mom's sisters. At every family function there was always a coffee pot being passed around the table. When we were at Grammy's it was coffee from a percolator. Sleep overs at her house meant my sister and I would be woken up at 5am by the sound of a coffee grinder followed by the sound of coffee perking (perching?..percing?) That sound still comforts me, (NOT the coffee grinder, but the percolator) and makes me think of being in Grammy's house.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">{Grammy will be a frequent topic of conversation. She is amazing. The end.}</span></div><br />
As a kiddo, I did not understand how anyone could drink the awful black liquid; it was bitter, icky, and never, ever tasted like it smelled. Oh, how things changed when I got to college. The obsession started with instant coffee. (Ew). I would boil water in the microwave and choke it down before studying on nights before exams. Then the cravings began. Slowly it became a regular part of my studying routine. Then, when I would visit home and the coffee was passed around, I would get a mug and partake in the bitter, icky black liquid. (Which was beginning to taste like it smelled).<br />
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<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;">I knew something was different when I went to Starbucks and ordered just a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;"><i>plain</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;"> coffee. I felt as though I was cheating on my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;"><i>white chocolate mocha</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;">, but... I just wanted coffee. Then, I got a real coffee maker. And my life ended. Addiction is a funny thing<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">*</span>, it creeps up on you. And that is exactly what happened. Before I knew it, I was drinking coffee every morning, and then... I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;"><b>needed</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Baskerville; font-size: medium;"> coffee every morning.</span></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">{*I do not think addiction is a funny thing, being addicted to anything other than coffee, and maybe peanut butter, is a scary thing.}</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">Now, coffee is a huge part of my life. It is not just a beverage to me, it is part of my personality. The best part of being at home, with my parents, is being able to have coffee with my mom. We could probably clear out the coffee section of a grocery store in a weekend. We have a bond through coffee, it is a constant, a routine that just makes me feel comfortable, content and at home.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RrJ-GK8i36_gN4BhI-3mg3nuxc7mODKlahNsLxk00LTtBVZlvVHS0OKEFrtTqHL3FzEuGaDdMFgExi21LZGcOj_6c-2_DGZn51Ts-Nhyphenhyphent7H6gsmOjldPO65ddZZIV3evGjuC0a7RoIQC/s1600/DSCN2644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RrJ-GK8i36_gN4BhI-3mg3nuxc7mODKlahNsLxk00LTtBVZlvVHS0OKEFrtTqHL3FzEuGaDdMFgExi21LZGcOj_6c-2_DGZn51Ts-Nhyphenhyphent7H6gsmOjldPO65ddZZIV3evGjuC0a7RoIQC/s320/DSCN2644.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RrJ-GK8i36_gN4BhI-3mg3nuxc7mODKlahNsLxk00LTtBVZlvVHS0OKEFrtTqHL3FzEuGaDdMFgExi21LZGcOj_6c-2_DGZn51Ts-Nhyphenhyphent7H6gsmOjldPO65ddZZIV3evGjuC0a7RoIQC/s1600/DSCN2644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Camping. We had Starbucks' Via on hand. Lots of it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"> And any trip home isn't complete unless I visit Grammy and have "percolator coffee" with her. In my head, and in my taste-buds, percolator coffee is a million times better than regular brewed coffee. It just tastes... richer and fuller. It tastes like Grammy's house. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">{I had a percolator once. Then I lost the cord. And you can't buy just a cord. And I don't want to buy a new percolator just for the cord. It's a tough subject...I'd rather not talk about it.} </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;">There are mornings when the only thing that will get me out of the bed, is the thought of what the apartment will smell like after I start the coffee. There is nothing like walking into a house and smelling freshly brewed coffee. This may be the reason why I spend a lot of time at Starbucks. It just smells like... home/heaven. There is a Starbucks in Fort Collins, Colorado that I like to think I kept in business while in college. You're welcome, Campus West Starbucks. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">My love affair with coffee is not a light subject. It is a very serious issue. That Boy I Love doesn't understand. But he does know that coffee keeps me happy, and I think that's pretty easy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyq9OpCL5yzI4pgA0m29x48NZdLrxiBpr93fzGUFk9m09i_u_Zd6crWlBmd2MVRIxFZ9BH9GODeMFGHXvc0zep9zClAa-DOyaXE6l4S_HluFLCu5W2q1a_Z9GGt0wK-t1aaKm8NpzocABs/s1600/coffee+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyq9OpCL5yzI4pgA0m29x48NZdLrxiBpr93fzGUFk9m09i_u_Zd6crWlBmd2MVRIxFZ9BH9GODeMFGHXvc0zep9zClAa-DOyaXE6l4S_HluFLCu5W2q1a_Z9GGt0wK-t1aaKm8NpzocABs/s1600/coffee+love.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Maybe I need help? An intervention? </div><div style="text-align: center;">I'll look into it after I get another cup of coffee. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Images: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; white-space: nowrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">brettsuperstar.blogspot.com, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; white-space: nowrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">blog.galaxark.com</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><br />
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</span></div>Judi.with.an.ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449847101287812602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4189044915038627936.post-39322963067286533982010-09-24T11:26:00.000-07:002010-09-24T13:08:23.507-07:00Coffee in hand... Ready... set... go!And so it begins....<br />
<div>I am here, starting a blog because my wonderful friend <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/03401518976278399820"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Kassie</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> </span>suggested to me that I start one. So, we'll see how it goes, maybe it will be therapeutic... ha. </div><div><s><br />
</s><br />
I am sarcastic, nice, hard-working and I crack myself up. Laughing at myself is a full time job, usually I am the only one laughing at my jokes, but damn am I funny. I try very hard to be optimistic, and while this makes my boyfriend and most people in my life crazy- I am a planner. I make lists for absolutely <b>everything</b>. And if something doesn't go accordingly... I will have myself a little nervous breakdown. And then I'll get over it, and start making a new list/plan. It's what I do.<br />
<s><br />
</s></div><div>I am currently having a few questions about this life that I have found myself in. In my heart I am a teacher. Some people know that they are meant to be doctors, priests, animal psychics... but me? I am meant to be a teacher. I've known since the age of five that I would be a teacher...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">{</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You see, when I was in kindergarten, my teacher wrote on an overhead projector and I just could not believe how amazingly smooth it looked when she wrote...I just wanted to be up there writing on that dang thing... and there began my dream to be a teacher. And, no matter how outdated it is, I WILL use an overhead projector in my classroom}</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
I have also always known that, being a native, I would live in Colorado. There is nothing bad about the state of Colorado. Who wouldn't love having four different seasons, having the mountains to look at (and act as a permanent compass), or living with the friendliest people in the world?<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">{</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There may be friendly people, seasons and mountains elsewhere, but that's irrelevant right now}</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">However, I am living in San Diego, and currently have no job. I am writing from a Starbucks patio. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">{You will come to see that I work coffee into everything. It's more important to me than oxygen}</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I am in love.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">{Yes, with coffee, however that's not what I'm referring to here}</span> </span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span></span>And this love has brought me to San Diego, has taken me away from teaching, family, the mountains, and friends; he is "the one". I have been following him and his career for the last year. What does he do...?<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7RVYhIu5p0yuLL5WgrkM0TyGULLHBJw0G4NDS774cgkOkEyCsR2z4QhviPKuHxVH2xyrypHCUIXxMi6p_scwJ5i3c-vpLssNhGzgU7895FgWBCeq5IZfUaHq3lyJZagsDMhIzca2kdHa/s1600/DSCN2780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7RVYhIu5p0yuLL5WgrkM0TyGULLHBJw0G4NDS774cgkOkEyCsR2z4QhviPKuHxVH2xyrypHCUIXxMi6p_scwJ5i3c-vpLssNhGzgU7895FgWBCeq5IZfUaHq3lyJZagsDMhIzca2kdHa/s320/DSCN2780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7RVYhIu5p0yuLL5WgrkM0TyGULLHBJw0G4NDS774cgkOkEyCsR2z4QhviPKuHxVH2xyrypHCUIXxMi6p_scwJ5i3c-vpLssNhGzgU7895FgWBCeq5IZfUaHq3lyJZagsDMhIzca2kdHa/s1600/DSCN2780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;">We no longer live here.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"> </span></div><br />
He is a football player, and we have been in four cities in the last 11 months. While this is a dream come true for him, and I could not be happier that he has the opportunity to play, it is incredibly hard on a relationship and on the girlfriend. But, I will complain and whine about all that another time.<br />
<br />
Love is a funny thing.<br />
Love is a hard thing.<br />
Love is a four letter word.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><br />
</span></span></div>Judi.with.an.ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449847101287812602noreply@blogger.com1