tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77971461962803982622024-02-20T15:12:28.288-08:00Just Breathe with abigail mackabigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-50975962189720544932013-05-04T00:00:00.002-07:002013-05-04T00:00:06.988-07:00A Job OfferAs I've mentioned, I have to leave my job for this coming school year. I've applied a bunch of places, and had my first interview two days ago at a high school for a ninth grade Spanish position. I was not at all excited for the interview... I adore teaching middle school, I love the awkwardness of the age, and I just hate to admit that I'm really leaving my school. <br />
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The morning I had the interview I also had to go get emergency oral surgery and get all 4 wisdom teeth extracted, so I was just in a delightful mood, and really peachy with the principal and vice principal. I am shocked they sent me an email inviting me to join their staff this evening. <br />
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When I walked into the building, it felt comfortable. Too comfortable. It felt exactly like where I went to high school. If I wanted to teach an easy, suburban demographic, I wouldn't live fifteen hours from home. I know that all students need good teachers, and I'm grappling with being selfish and what the Lord has for me in Memphis and what it's going to look like now that I'm not called to be at Hamilton anymore. But this school seemed just too easy. The position would be teaching ninth graders only, and all Spanish 1. <br />
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The school was full of upper-middle class kids, lots of privilege and not a lot of challenge. I didn't move fifteen hours away from my friends and family to work with the high school I grew up going to. I want to serve the kids who are under-served. Who miss out on chances. Who don't have a voice. I want to advocate for those babies. I want to love the kids who are missing chances because of their zip code. While I'm in Memphis, I want to seek out the kids who deserve every opportunity to reach their highest potential, in my classroom, and help their achieve their biggest dreams. <br />
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Yes, this ninth grade Spanish job would have been great. Really easy, a wonderful team to work for. But it's not the place for me. Not while I'm in Memphis. That's not what I'm here for. abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-52914930146296861552013-04-29T12:02:00.002-07:002013-04-29T12:02:21.763-07:00WeekendWhat. A. Weekend.<br />
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It started out just wonderful, we went to the Chris Young concert in Southaven on Friday night, where I got my fair food fix and we got to hear some good live country music, and all was good<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. R may have enjoyed himself more than the rest of us ;) </td></tr>
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Then Saturday for ONCE fiancé didn't have to work at the stables (he volunteers at the state park 7-6 Saturday and Sunday, which is great for him, but leaves me lonesome all weekend. but it was a little rainy, so no horses!). We set out to look at furniture for our new apartment... and FINALLY got my...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WEDDING BAND!!</td></tr>
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I knew <b>exactly what I wanted</b>. And it does not exist. Two straight across, NOT channel set bands. Prong settng, NO break for my solitaire engagement ring. Since it didn't exist, we bought two bands and had them soldered together. So. Stinking. Excited!</div>
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Ug... Then. In the midst of running errands, we decided to stop by Walgreens and pick up my prescription for cough medicine. I've had an irritating cough and my doctor sent me some cough meds. We had just had lunch and figured I'd be fine to take it. Within half an hour, I was LOOPY. Laughing, SOBBING hysterically. I got really upset in the makeup aisle that our grandmothers had both passed away and would never wear lipstick again...uh. Wacky tobaccy much? Then I was really absurdly happy that there was watermelon for sale. I mean. Homegirl needed to go home. Then a few minutes later after my emotional rollercoaster, I started projectile vomiting. Which did not stop until 2 am. Thaaaanks codeine. Never. Again. I'll just keep coughing. </div>
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This was seriously the worst reaction I've ever had to medicine, and it was TERRIBLE. . Ruined my weekend :( </div>
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In other parts of my life....</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our new apartment in Mississippi!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Y'all. This is the most addicting game ever. Download. NOW. </td></tr>
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abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-3491524392638099292013-04-29T11:44:00.001-07:002013-04-29T11:44:14.161-07:00Maid of Honor Speech<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">When I was little, my mom used to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then because she knew it was Dad’s and my favorite. I remember one night in particular she made breakfast for dinner after a long, hard day working at the hospital. That night, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed. Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask us how our day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly all over that burned biscuit. He ate every bite of that thing and never made a face or uttered a word about it. When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits, and I'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burned biscuits every now and then. These are just right." When I went to say good night to my Dad, I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He said to me, "Your Mom had a rough day at work and was exhausted when she came home today. Yet she still had a warm, home cooked meal on the table ready for us to eat by dinnertime. So do I like burned biscuits? Well today I love them. Besides, a burned biscuit never hurt anyone.” The older I get, the more I think about the appreciation and respect my Dad has for my mom. She’s his everything. My Dad is by no means the perfect husband, but he knows what it means to be a loyal, loving, and supportive companion. Life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people. I'm not the best at anything, and I forget birthdays, anniversaries, and other special events just like everyone else. But one thing I have learned over the years is that learning to accept other's faults, and choosing to celebrate each other's differences, is the key to creating a healthy, lasting relationship. Be it a husband-wife, parent-child, or friendship--understanding is the base of any relationship. So after you both take the plunge, tie the knot, and marry the man of your dreams in a few weeks, don't forget to say: "Pass me a biscuit babe, and yes the burned one will do just fine."</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">"Sometimes we get ahead of ourselves, but the important thing for you to remember is you'll never be alone in it again."</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">My best friend Chrissy sent this to me and our other best friend, Zoe today. She has the honor (or pressure haha) of being maid of honor in both of our weddings in the next month. She's the perfect person for the job, and we couldn't be more honored. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><br /></span></span>abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-24861516530189768212013-04-26T13:01:00.000-07:002013-04-26T13:01:07.250-07:00High Five for Friday1. Tonight my fiancé and I are going to a county fair in Mississippi and seeing Chris Young in concert- for only $10! Wahoooo!!! Bring on the fair food! I LOVE COTTON CANDY. And funnel cakes. Lemonade. Hot dogs. Beer. Nachos. All of it. And country music too. But really just fair food!<br />
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2. I. adore. my. students. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Example 1. Check out Crystal's Pinterest worthy nails!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Example 2- part 1. Cue the tears with this letter from a sweetheart. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Example 2 part 2. The back of the letter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Example 3. Please read my whiteboard. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Example 4. My hair is enthralling. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJUXmgyYC6dKKEh9BnPZPHpTmdLOjlTyLaJEis1Q_KcW6AY0ZXXX58wUo3XGja6K4-hOAqTQskQ4Eh9mPwUNzAn2uevgaoPlDeAPyPOGvL4zMktJSGZPA7FvXpiF8Qn4S1c_Vv3BppblI/s1600/IMG_0988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJUXmgyYC6dKKEh9BnPZPHpTmdLOjlTyLaJEis1Q_KcW6AY0ZXXX58wUo3XGja6K4-hOAqTQskQ4Eh9mPwUNzAn2uevgaoPlDeAPyPOGvL4zMktJSGZPA7FvXpiF8Qn4S1c_Vv3BppblI/s400/IMG_0988.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Example 4. One of my dearest little sister students .<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
3. My dad and I butt heads a lot, especially as I grow older, but I am such a daddy's girl and realize often how blessed I am to have him. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ97rzEC_uWQdPQz-zH9TkjRBjY4BDS8ocXokgF9qA6GMclEr23zeEEf1iPByLIhMunKYv0gKAdBfd83zSaY2OpROzEqPrKd-T6SnC5rJ5DmLaFPpwZcHOfH3t6dfmZA_rBsxz6tE0QevV/s1600/IMG_0937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ97rzEC_uWQdPQz-zH9TkjRBjY4BDS8ocXokgF9qA6GMclEr23zeEEf1iPByLIhMunKYv0gKAdBfd83zSaY2OpROzEqPrKd-T6SnC5rJ5DmLaFPpwZcHOfH3t6dfmZA_rBsxz6tE0QevV/s320/IMG_0937.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDi1kHyaTTCO4k5nAPBzREwZ6-XDKF4wfhNO4iNdQ4QlkTODF9_EMi7ZkpgxElSk2pbUE537osnRBbaud44z_jG20WrTvYKTKe6-o3BvJCsvskxQzioErLZBY1mUVCdbDQz4G4t5bqwpS/s1600/IMG_0936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDi1kHyaTTCO4k5nAPBzREwZ6-XDKF4wfhNO4iNdQ4QlkTODF9_EMi7ZkpgxElSk2pbUE537osnRBbaud44z_jG20WrTvYKTKe6-o3BvJCsvskxQzioErLZBY1mUVCdbDQz4G4t5bqwpS/s320/IMG_0936.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdLhmuk8GbiqcjTg3YpcCCXKfMRTOqGFQbaPFZRfY9vgKdiSGfbs7RNXJJ0tmo7iw99rcfJ0inNrp22nCejyorIsLKz9t9h1hqK3BcYCJpRM9kWAe1XxJf6k0xX22VA5d_CL_0uUxb-wu/s1600/IMG_0935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdLhmuk8GbiqcjTg3YpcCCXKfMRTOqGFQbaPFZRfY9vgKdiSGfbs7RNXJJ0tmo7iw99rcfJ0inNrp22nCejyorIsLKz9t9h1hqK3BcYCJpRM9kWAe1XxJf6k0xX22VA5d_CL_0uUxb-wu/s320/IMG_0935.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsPPRrTwdaKO4VaStadujUK6uu5eccO4tgHfnasZJhyphenhyphenmL6912sVD1SIOHleVGAVrVm_gkYxscY_7vuUR098okMFsgXK17-akkGkRj_39L7LDNIgvc64wTSqZb6fbqez1Bq-UyiOH6tYt0/s1600/IMG_0946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsPPRrTwdaKO4VaStadujUK6uu5eccO4tgHfnasZJhyphenhyphenmL6912sVD1SIOHleVGAVrVm_gkYxscY_7vuUR098okMFsgXK17-akkGkRj_39L7LDNIgvc64wTSqZb6fbqez1Bq-UyiOH6tYt0/s320/IMG_0946.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4ihlzdMMtepPZX5xz_sIiFf5NZgftHHhsYdFz46Ne4aEVOlTEYdY-lJRJRxK7g42kcPeGzlUZr_QyR0Mi3SVGbt3fzdugj7Eq8l2FZDrzJLeIxD-enaLFVjYRb1ABd3GuMO4VHRij7kS/s1600/IMG_0943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4ihlzdMMtepPZX5xz_sIiFf5NZgftHHhsYdFz46Ne4aEVOlTEYdY-lJRJRxK7g42kcPeGzlUZr_QyR0Mi3SVGbt3fzdugj7Eq8l2FZDrzJLeIxD-enaLFVjYRb1ABd3GuMO4VHRij7kS/s400/IMG_0943.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TD1hDtEOvSlKePjitzl7_XOuCKJe-2LkK9GO5vlGcKuYzUWtpL65GBsL92Mv9hy-G4XE_WCdoNnXh-1veRX3DTkG7_NSTgiS0ToRAL7ZRXAdNqL_APPJc4bDZvB8rhyza4dKU1w2FH8W/s1600/IMG_0997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TD1hDtEOvSlKePjitzl7_XOuCKJe-2LkK9GO5vlGcKuYzUWtpL65GBsL92Mv9hy-G4XE_WCdoNnXh-1veRX3DTkG7_NSTgiS0ToRAL7ZRXAdNqL_APPJc4bDZvB8rhyza4dKU1w2FH8W/s400/IMG_0997.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And getting texts like this just makes my heart sing. </td></tr>
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4. plus every Maryland girl loves her some chevron, crabs and monograms. All 3? Be still, my heart. (The iPhone background was made with the app Wall About You. Let me know if you want me to make you one!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqW_D_d1DNDmMk8Vu4VI5dVZO-2ifYC342zhZfMXJG-BXRUNVocgJtaGXNPH4lCvOoniJHNTnMBx1ASxv2lHazhpY_dVAOsLZdpzPdbbUc_ToWcql8VyQNjt9Y5ltC5F5yKNcANMKOT_LI/s1600/IMG_0979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqW_D_d1DNDmMk8Vu4VI5dVZO-2ifYC342zhZfMXJG-BXRUNVocgJtaGXNPH4lCvOoniJHNTnMBx1ASxv2lHazhpY_dVAOsLZdpzPdbbUc_ToWcql8VyQNjt9Y5ltC5F5yKNcANMKOT_LI/s320/IMG_0979.JPG" width="205" /></a></div>
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5. My kids took their state test this week and we made up songs to help remember the crucial information we knew they always forget and is always on the state test. They were bopping around singing "Sound waves are (Clap clap!) longitudinal! nnd excretory system's when you- DOO DOO! ALLL week- but both of those were questions, so I know all my seventh graders got them right! WahooO!</div>
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abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-73334572580463790912013-04-26T12:19:00.002-07:002013-04-26T12:19:40.193-07:00Draw Me a MapMy honey and I love listening to Dierks Bentley. We love country music, and for the extent of our relationship have bonded of him playing guitar while I sing along, or he serenades me. The whole "Up on the Ridge" album is <i>so good </i>and we have sung it to one another for years.. One song we love is "Draw me a Map"- about getting disconnected from the relationship, and asking your better half to draw you a map that leads you back to your better half. <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Draw me a map that leads me back to you</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know where to go, please tell me what to do</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Help me to find the road you're on</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just need directions home</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Draw me a map that leads me back to you</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're my destiny and destination</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Understand my desperation</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're the only place I wanna be</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So get us back to you and me</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times;">As I mentioned before, we have been going to pre-marital counseling with our church. Last night was our last of four sessions, so we are officially approved by the church to be married (wahoo!). We did an interesting activity I wanted to share with y'all. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times;">It was called Love Maps, and you answered questions about your partner and how well you know him or her/ how equal you are in the relationship. How well can you answer these? It was interested how Chris and I compared, and I think you'll find it interesting to try them with your significant other too!</span></span><br />
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(they are all true or false questions, so I'm not going to write true/false next to them)<br />
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<ol>
<li>I can name my partner's best friends.</li>
<li>I can tell you what stresses my partner is currently facing.</li>
<li>I know the names of some of the people who are currently irritation my partner.</li>
<li>I can tell you some of my partner's life dreams.</li>
<li>I am very familiar with my partner's religious beliefs and ideas.</li>
<li>I can tell you about my partner's basic philosophy of life. </li>
<li>I can list the relatives my partner likes the least (we had fun with this one ;) )</li>
<li>I know my partner's favorite music.</li>
<li>I can list my partner's three favorite movies.</li>
<li>My spouse is familiar with my current stresses.</li>
<li>I know the three most special times in my partner's life.</li>
<li>I can tell you the most stressful thing that happened to my partner as a child. </li>
<li>I can list my partner's major aspirations and hopes in life.</li>
<li>I know my partner's major current worries.</li>
<li>My spouse knows who my friends are.</li>
<li>I know what my partner would do if he or she suddenly won the lottery.</li>
<li>I can tell you in detail my first impressions of my partner.</li>
<li>Periodically I ask my partner about his or her world right now.</li>
<li>I feel that my partner knows me pretty well.</li>
<li>My spouse is familiar with my hopes and aspirations.</li>
</ol>
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Not only can you answer these- it's easy to agree with what your partner <i>says </i> your answer would be "oh you're right, I do kinda like that song by Katy Perry" but what was <i>your</i> first instinct of a response? Write down your responses both for yourself and for your partner- and then compare responses and see how closely aligned you were! It's fun to see how closely they compared- or how you can get to know one another better! </div>
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abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-81466962632218442822013-04-25T12:41:00.001-07:002013-04-25T12:50:56.716-07:00Throwback to College<br />
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#throwbackthursday<br />
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Every day I wonder why I'm not still in college....<br />
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Why i don't still spend every summer lifeguarding on the Jersey shore getting burnt to a crisp and partying all night until 5 am then working 7-7.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsF4INrSay01jnofWiO9DYrwK2Bo3sgdeNCIUznrPiqPRH5GpBvzNjMTT_CxaMxQdhWexj8oiienlPhzXtsa1QfGeRa3gcxX3oC0VCJ1y4R1q7RG-E7RLRdoOTdt-36UGbAkEKJ1d_9vW/s1600/P7160445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsF4INrSay01jnofWiO9DYrwK2Bo3sgdeNCIUznrPiqPRH5GpBvzNjMTT_CxaMxQdhWexj8oiienlPhzXtsa1QfGeRa3gcxX3oC0VCJ1y4R1q7RG-E7RLRdoOTdt-36UGbAkEKJ1d_9vW/s320/P7160445.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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With the nicest most amazeballs sweet girls ever</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWROd1WYwRwFY1soJ9QzPvjYL_iip1b8KQVO6SjdRONhk6_8jhzHiw4XMm4Xlucv6H14KJ8K3kijbjHy4GlHvTXEg1sQx7NXrgdIH_EO71aQ2Y4cuqC9MaRK54BRG85l6j1PRrWGbZ4JP/s1600/P7160459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWROd1WYwRwFY1soJ9QzPvjYL_iip1b8KQVO6SjdRONhk6_8jhzHiw4XMm4Xlucv6H14KJ8K3kijbjHy4GlHvTXEg1sQx7NXrgdIH_EO71aQ2Y4cuqC9MaRK54BRG85l6j1PRrWGbZ4JP/s320/P7160459.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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In clubs where you literally just might see Snooki.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePpqcJEmV9Orl67CMDR8NgDqGHk0U33_DNx4GY1qqC_qwYjKt7F4cC5DcGThyphenhyphenugTaCKJbs1PxToLWLb1zlGn8MNUDrtZDSAeQYiJ8tnFx5ZZpY01wtnmnKXGF2mKNiVftIq8D89Pb4dHW/s1600/150364_10150316864315401_597465400_15202274_5607729_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiePpqcJEmV9Orl67CMDR8NgDqGHk0U33_DNx4GY1qqC_qwYjKt7F4cC5DcGThyphenhyphenugTaCKJbs1PxToLWLb1zlGn8MNUDrtZDSAeQYiJ8tnFx5ZZpY01wtnmnKXGF2mKNiVftIq8D89Pb4dHW/s320/150364_10150316864315401_597465400_15202274_5607729_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Why I don't get to dress up as a lifeguard...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjdrzpgXISkadGlCWdSzrMi3cQ4BKNkokbAOLRJn1LLF1Ybd6r3vFGHmJg6PdysKKs_k27bcxZfFak_PcVT3wl6CJBIwljXwGMShsTwWMxm2eMqcF6Ch9vLQCPdOrauVdO6r_5JX_hNHT/s1600/40757_1500082354022_1593060091_31432576_3293583_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjdrzpgXISkadGlCWdSzrMi3cQ4BKNkokbAOLRJn1LLF1Ybd6r3vFGHmJg6PdysKKs_k27bcxZfFak_PcVT3wl6CJBIwljXwGMShsTwWMxm2eMqcF6Ch9vLQCPdOrauVdO6r_5JX_hNHT/s320/40757_1500082354022_1593060091_31432576_3293583_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Or a lumberjack...</div>
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Or cowboys and Indians?</div>
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On a bi-weekly basis? Where's college now that I need it?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIeqQ7SAbVsg7iRvuL67EXmeHHbhMyajj8a_w5sGLMI-dXqS9SiorclvYNwvFS0tBhnCGYSw1wOKINZJPOmqEKkXovCU2AcyscD-C15HpZveAZfbqGZKIXOISscMY_iivLsX5rE1NoA5p/s1600/75382_1480401733273_1330680048_31259612_6300443_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIeqQ7SAbVsg7iRvuL67EXmeHHbhMyajj8a_w5sGLMI-dXqS9SiorclvYNwvFS0tBhnCGYSw1wOKINZJPOmqEKkXovCU2AcyscD-C15HpZveAZfbqGZKIXOISscMY_iivLsX5rE1NoA5p/s320/75382_1480401733273_1330680048_31259612_6300443_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Where are the best friends EVER?</div>
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Where's my dad in his shades and my srat house love?</div>
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Where's Christmas in the Country, the opportunity to drink Shnapps and hot cocoa by a bonfire and dress like reindeer and santa?</div>
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Ho ho ho... I miss college...</div>
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Why don't I get to wear cocktails on a biweekly basis anymore?</div>
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Why don't I get to wear too-tall heels and too-short dresses?</div>
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Why don't I get to take pictures that shouldn't have been reproduced?</div>
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Why don't I get to take pictures at frat houses in ridiculously terrible gold leggings?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLkLGRDxavv_rT0nCks_gHnaKWaeWA-C-7b7y5JJQ_nU5YwpCVsYAh2NegQpzMUETZJE02pUCXARQgU36NIN1icrX1zz4Thz2oozfBaqVGdQSl-IOB3KC69u8yaCqr1-waV7BToqRK_Uti/s1600/P2021026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLkLGRDxavv_rT0nCks_gHnaKWaeWA-C-7b7y5JJQ_nU5YwpCVsYAh2NegQpzMUETZJE02pUCXARQgU36NIN1icrX1zz4Thz2oozfBaqVGdQSl-IOB3KC69u8yaCqr1-waV7BToqRK_Uti/s320/P2021026.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Why don't I get to dress up in animal masks with my srat family. Yeah I love college. ayy.</div>
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Shooweee do I miss getting to decorate for big little week. </div>
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I. Adored. Being. A. Big. Sister</div>
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Seriously Love. Red. hot. Chi. O.</div>
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<!-- start LinkyTools script --><script src="http://www.linkytools.com/thumbnail_linky_include.aspx?id=193930" type="text/javascript" ></script><!-- end LinkyTools script -->abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-38205052538872639242013-04-25T00:31:00.003-07:002013-04-25T00:47:34.901-07:00NestingAs I mentioned few posts ago (<a href="http://draft.blogger.com/%3Ccenter%3E%20%3Ca%20href=%22http://www.herandnicole.com%22%3E%3Cimg%20src=%22http://i1110.photobucket.com/albums/h443/kita1477/bloghopnewbutton_zps78cc552d.png%22/%3E%3C/a%3E%3C/center%3E" target="_blank">Wedding and Marriage Planning</a>) my fiancé and I moved in together last October. He moved in with a roommate I had already been living with for about a year and a half in Memphis, and she and I already had a lease that lasted through this coming May. Rather than us breaking our lease, and since we already have a really great 2 bedroom apartment in downtown Memphis, he just moved in and reduced everyone's rent significantly for the next 7 months. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdlqmwPD37aeMhVfCMf1T-9KBOdDqLBtlwEVVNFCwlzn0BkN0WTAmm25gta_DD3NgIZZvFstSGW2vt5LZuayMxS5Jq0dcT8Cud0ah_xadY2Y3YJe_V877Qr0WfgOfOd3OszsvSi2duvAO/s1600/IMG_0004.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdlqmwPD37aeMhVfCMf1T-9KBOdDqLBtlwEVVNFCwlzn0BkN0WTAmm25gta_DD3NgIZZvFstSGW2vt5LZuayMxS5Jq0dcT8Cud0ah_xadY2Y3YJe_V877Qr0WfgOfOd3OszsvSi2duvAO/s320/IMG_0004.PNG" width="213" /></a></div>
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3 of us squeezed in this aparment has not been ideal, but she has been wonderful putting up with an engaged couple living in her space and she and I get along well so it has worked out fine for the time being. The cheap rent makes it workable for all ;) <br />
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He and I have been looking at spaces and are SO excited about the prospect of finally getting to move into our <b>own</b> space in May. As much as it has been fun to go to pre-marital counseling, decorate our bedroom, learn to cook and clean <i>together</i>... This has never at all felt like our space. We share the smallest bedroom, our bathroom is the guest bathroom off of the kitchen, our closet is teeny-tiny (his clothes are in the bathroom closet (have I mentioned he is the nicest man in the <b>world?)... </b>This move is going to be amaze-balls.<br />
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We have finally found our space for next year and although we do not have any intentions of having children for a long while, I have already begun nesting. I just feel like we are starting our family June 8th and I cannot wait to make this space <i style="font-weight: bold;">ours</i>. We are allowed to paint at our new place (what a luxury!) and I can't wait to make our huge master suite homey, our kitchen bright, our living room homey and our guest bedroom welcoming. <br />
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I've been scouring pinterest for ideas and inspiration, and am so excited! Does anyone have ides for what they've done with a small space to make it more welcoming?<br />
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Our new apartment is on a golf course, so we have a gorgeous view overlooking lakes and woods. Our patio has a divine view of water and trees. I. cannot. wait.<br />
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I want to make a wall of maps of places we love/have traveled and lived/gone to school (so that includes Memphis, Mississippi, Atlanta, Virginia, Spain, Maine, a few places in Maryland, Portugal, England...)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo98cWB7jC6cqd4Y48bvZdSQ2UXFmN-ZxPO4tDuZ82-rLGAqg7wrilFmnwafWe7tQ6xYZ4TTRa_0FpbKnpVihR_eyd5FPCQs-HJewfctJnGK-Jr93h_ILJBu2QSX9F18goO4zL1UGww415/s1600/IMG_6576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo98cWB7jC6cqd4Y48bvZdSQ2UXFmN-ZxPO4tDuZ82-rLGAqg7wrilFmnwafWe7tQ6xYZ4TTRa_0FpbKnpVihR_eyd5FPCQs-HJewfctJnGK-Jr93h_ILJBu2QSX9F18goO4zL1UGww415/s320/IMG_6576.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://runninglawyer.blogspot.com/2011/07/home-project-map-wall.html?showComment=1311096994111#c1296700412550791488" target="_blank">Image Source and Inspiration</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'd also love to (probably in our kitchen?) print out a bunch of encouraging and happy quotes and do a wall of quotes.<br />
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I want to paint at least one accent wall in every room, and maybe all the walls in some rooms. I want our bedroom to be grey, so it is not too girly. I like this dark soothing grey.</div>
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This year, I reupholstered our kitchen chairs and it was SO easy. I just used Chris' nail gun and took off the seat cushions, used scissors to cut fabric squares of cute cheap fabric and nailed them back on. But now that I know it's so eaasy, I am itching to do it again! I think I might take them all off, paint the wood chairs white, the table maybe a bright fun color (or maybe white...not sure), sand it so it's distressed looking, and do each chair in a different fun fabric!</div>
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How was your first married/living together apartment? Any fun stories? Fun decorating ideas?<br />
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abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-20393350941956594962013-04-17T22:03:00.003-07:002013-04-17T22:09:13.779-07:00Cystic Fibrosis- My heart hurts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0JzdXcJjbBR1FCmBWY4e2wv4UofQOBoPFzLXbJsooYXQ1wDfV0iJBCQnJNnUANsrS-2Nh2my6hzP23cRxNVdHkMVQ3OJG6z7RtaUSAMXHelJ8EPUx4ahyphenhyphenRLPl_NvB8mKot8uzUJxio9P/s1600/216134_1003543368600_5296_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0JzdXcJjbBR1FCmBWY4e2wv4UofQOBoPFzLXbJsooYXQ1wDfV0iJBCQnJNnUANsrS-2Nh2my6hzP23cRxNVdHkMVQ3OJG6z7RtaUSAMXHelJ8EPUx4ahyphenhyphenRLPl_NvB8mKot8uzUJxio9P/s320/216134_1003543368600_5296_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I don't know how to begin this.</div>
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My heart hurts. Tonight I stood in the shower and just cried and cried. I don't want to lose my best friend. This world makes me really sad. Why do bombings happen? Why do school shootings happen? Why are there terminal illnesses? Why do 3 year old sweet precious darlings get diagnosed with terrible diseases for which there are no cure?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyh4J42SzrCvmX2J38iPuxCX1reZxtjFTVborsdAGhyphenhyphenYMqJzPpdLzph5GNZF0rus-PJ2HpjvOaCfj1bbnSdcALdNWY4e2Q_0HS7HI8S96vtcFRNXNjKrexUv4-5_g1sAurMvdV-YRVq7Ks/s1600/225268_1002410140270_4779_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyh4J42SzrCvmX2J38iPuxCX1reZxtjFTVborsdAGhyphenhyphenYMqJzPpdLzph5GNZF0rus-PJ2HpjvOaCfj1bbnSdcALdNWY4e2Q_0HS7HI8S96vtcFRNXNjKrexUv4-5_g1sAurMvdV-YRVq7Ks/s320/225268_1002410140270_4779_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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When I was in the tenth grade, I met the funniest girl. She had a really high ponytail of bouncy curls, was the field hockey manager where I had held that position the year prior. She was the happiest person I had ever met, and was more quick-witted than anyone I had ever spoken with. She had an infectious laugh and anyone who talked to her was her best friend within five minutes. She was smart as a whip, no class or subject could stump this girl. With no time, somehow some way, this girl became by best friend. Through high school and some ridiculous boy situations, girl drama and absurd drives (we thought it was a good idea to get a job 30 minutes away tutoring math because it would look good for college?)- we were inseparable. College came and we stayed best friends. A few times a year she has gotten really sick, and nothing scares me more. I cannot imagine my life without her by my side. She is my heart and soul. We used to SCREAM a Relient K song in my terrible old baby blue Saturn with the sunroof down </div>
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">We should get jerseys cause we make a good team</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">But yours would look better than mine, cause you're outta my league</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">And I know that it's so cliche to tell you that everyday</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">I spend with you is the new best day of my life</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">Everyone watching us just turns away with disgust</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">It's Jealously, they can see that we've got it going on"</span></div>
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She is my soulmate, my true best friend, till death to us part. I love my fiancé with all that I am, but she knows me better than anyone ever has or will. She has known me through some terrible high school phases, through college identity crises, through depression and medical problems. We know one anothers' family problems and true selves. She's the reason for the name of my blog. The reason I fought through the hardest year of my life at the hardest job I could have imagined. The reason I could never quit anything. The reason I believe in inner strength- <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>fortaleza interior, innere St</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; line-height: 38px;">ä</span></span><i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">rke</span>. </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyeRTmhDsD8R1LH6b3PF4FtyA-63YPCu_W1UBekWxatqyziiQrIHu0xlFOt4ys9My52jRZUYYGt3aUOEcCXnnMMfAYmpeqtPoPN6HUdEaE3XqPs4KW7NThUOzU1M9XpLs1a_aNlFfCgkyk/s1600/227430_1003543008591_237_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyeRTmhDsD8R1LH6b3PF4FtyA-63YPCu_W1UBekWxatqyziiQrIHu0xlFOt4ys9My52jRZUYYGt3aUOEcCXnnMMfAYmpeqtPoPN6HUdEaE3XqPs4KW7NThUOzU1M9XpLs1a_aNlFfCgkyk/s320/227430_1003543008591_237_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My best friend has cystic fibrosis. This is a terminal illness that has no cure. The average lifespan for a person with cystic fibrosis is 37 years. Nobody wants to think that their best friend is only going to be 37. But my best friend is a fighter. Every time her doctors have given her an estimate of her lifespan, she has laughed and far surpassed it. She would only live to 3? Nope. 6? Ha. 10? Not her. 16? Yeah right, this genius wants a Ph. D. She kicked college's booty and is now in a Ph.D program. So there. </div>
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CF is a terrible, horrible, no good very bad illness. It causes a buildup of abnormally thick mucus in the lungs, digestive tract and other parts of the body. CF impacts the lungs and the digestive system. People with CF have a lot of trouble with coughing and breathing, and are highly susceptible to infections. With regard to the digestive problems, CF makes it so patients can't absorb the nutrients they need from the food they eat- so people with CF have to take medicine to be able to grow or gain weight. CF causes thick mucus in the respiratory tract, so people with CF often have a chronic cough, nasal problems, lung infections, etc. As the chronic infections increase, in addition to the mucus building up within the lungs, lung function decreases.</div>
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Someone with CF fights a daily battle. They have to take medicine every time they eat to help absorb the nutrients from the food. They have to do morning and nighttime treatments to shake their lungs and loosen the mucus. This takes hours a day out of daily life. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I have n e v e r heard my best friend complain. She is the strongest, most happy, beautiful, loving, wonderful person I know. You would never believe this disease is attacking her body. <i>She does not let it define her</i>, and <u>I do not want to let it take her</u>. </span></div>
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<b><i>She is the maid of honor in my wedding, and I could not be more honored.</i></b></div>
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Tonight my mom told me that a sweet little girl from my church at home in Maryland recently found out that she, too, has cystic fibrosis. My heart is crushed. Nobody should have to fight this battle. </div>
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Her mother made this wonderful video, and I encourage you to set aside a few minutes and tissues (you will need them. You won't leave dry eyed) to watch it. </div>
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There has to be a cure. Please join me to find it. For Chrissy and Susannah, and for the thousands of others who should not have to suffer.</div>
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The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation is an amazing organization<b>. When they were founded in 1955, kids with CFF rarely survived elementary school. Now, with large thanks to their HUGE fundraising efforts and efforts to find a cure, patients with CF often live to their 30's, 40's and beyond. </b>They provide the <b>only</b> funding for CF research. </div>
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In 2012, the CF foundation raised almost $40 million for research to find a cure for cystic fibrosis. But they need your help. Please, look and find a <a href="http://www.cff.org/great_strides/" target="_blank">Great Strides</a> walk or event near you and participate. </div>
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We will beat this!</div>
<br />abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-77200892323474392652013-04-17T13:13:00.003-07:002013-04-23T17:43:24.085-07:00Did your momma teach you nothing?[Disclaimer: As I read over this after I posted, I realized I came off kind of cranky. I just wanted to put some etiquette out there. Plus traveling makes me cranky and I wish people were more respectful :) I promise I'm quite friendly and a really happy person! Ok, read on :)]<br />
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I was raised in Maryland. Not the dirty dirty south, not the frigid north. Not the chill west coast. Not 'eh up in Canada. Not the midwest. Just Maryland. I was raised with a lot of rules though. My parents taught me to respect other people and myself, that etiquette matters. I was always taught to be kinder than is necessary, for everyone is fighting a hard battle and you just never know what other people are going through. My daddy loves with his whole heart, and gives his all in everything he does. That's something he's instilled in me, and I've always held true. I have a ridiculous amount of Maryland pride- that red gold and black flag is just too beautiful for words. Rather than this becoming a tangent about Maryland (I promise I have a point here)- I wanted to discuss modern etiquette with y'all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiG8PYfOQHsjR-euHHC1flOvf3Q1_aRoO4Tt9Mj6U2G_Elx0ygRDwxQXxUHgLvcuNDVvwC2pD-1MD7YZqlF5r-I63yn-h5jTYp77JFG4p2fA7lnV26e2iRGJpMkMN_0xZf4ZgN-a9Qo-Pg/s1600/flag3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiG8PYfOQHsjR-euHHC1flOvf3Q1_aRoO4Tt9Mj6U2G_Elx0ygRDwxQXxUHgLvcuNDVvwC2pD-1MD7YZqlF5r-I63yn-h5jTYp77JFG4p2fA7lnV26e2iRGJpMkMN_0xZf4ZgN-a9Qo-Pg/s200/flag3.gif" width="171" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaiA69MafW1Thm7W8gViqRNaDx5USGz8mACkjimmLmOv3DZ9DwpF2DzoKF2gKuyJhAytgs_wKsvLsbLyiFm7O9Y878y77qw4MqpjeM-T3wYVSJ5QE0uOc590e5RbjHuSHlLpqGfjDULoHu/s1600/IMG_0852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaiA69MafW1Thm7W8gViqRNaDx5USGz8mACkjimmLmOv3DZ9DwpF2DzoKF2gKuyJhAytgs_wKsvLsbLyiFm7O9Y878y77qw4MqpjeM-T3wYVSJ5QE0uOc590e5RbjHuSHlLpqGfjDULoHu/s200/IMG_0852.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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In college a dear friend of mine, Anna, and I found a blog that was just etiquette question and answers. Y'all. We <i>gobbled</i> that thing up. I mean. We devoured it. Read that entire thing in a matter of weeks. It was this right here: <a href="http://www.etiquettegrrls.com/pages/home.html" target="_blank">EtiquetteGrrls</a> and although I do not <i>love</i> that little grammar/text lingo part of their name, I do love those ladies. <br />
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For high school graduation, so many of my mom's friends gave me old Bridal, Ann Landers and Martha Steward, among others, etiquette books. Such wonderful coffee table books, and I still to this day read those frequently. Etiquette is timeless, and it never hurts to be in good form.<br />
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So I just cannot fathom why some people have zero manners or respect. Zilch. Nada. Why do you <b>deliberately</b> disrespect those around you? As a classroom teacher to middle schoolers, my number one rule for my students is that they respect one another, their environments and themselves. Why do people not respect those around them? The disrespect I see out in public, <i>particularly</i> when I have been traveling lately- is absolutely <b><span style="font-size: large;">APPALLING</span></b>. I wanted to share some of the top offenses I have seen. Please feel free to add to my list!<br />
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1. <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Cell Phones</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Talking in public</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">-<span style="font-size: 12px;"> "Oh my GOD Charlotte! He did NOT call you that! He said WHAT to your mother! LET ME TELL YOU THIS!" .... Well sweet girl let ME tell you... You and your sweet friend might care, and bless y'alls hearts but the rest of us certainly do <b>not</b> care that much. And as happy as I am that you are talking with your friend, it is not necessary to be SCREAMING in a closed-in plane, or while we're standing in line, or while you are in a tight public space. There are PLENTY of less obnoxious places to talk on your cell phone- walk away from the group. Text your friend. Walk to the back of the store and speak MORE QUIETLY. </span></span></li>
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<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ringtones and key tapping</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">- </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> I</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">f you are in public or with other people- be it sitting on the couch chatting with a group of friends or just one friend, sitting in the break room talking to your coworkers, sitting on the airplane waiting to board, shopping at the mall and waiting in line to check out- and you have your phone on loud so you can here. Fine. Dandy. Let it ring. But the MOMENT you engage in a constant text conversation with dear Aunt Ginger who is a texting fiend and texts back every 2.73 seconds and you too are responding instantaneously so that your phone is ringing every 30 seconds- BE POLITE and cut that ringtone off! We don't need to hear that Blackberry boo-doop or that signature Apple chirp every 30 seconds. Nor do we need to hear every click as you hit the keyboard on that touchtone. Slide that button on the side and turn it on vibrate as you have your texting conversation. Turn it back up when you're done so you don't miss a call. Please. </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">2. </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Smacking your gum/clicking mints</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">- </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">My friend Samantha has informed me that this is actually a medical condition to be as bothered as I am when people rudely CHOMP their gum and smack their food around [<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/06/health/06annoy.html?_r=0" target="_blank">misophonia</a>]</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small;">. But honestly. Did Momma not tell you to chew with your mouth closed, do not talk with your mouth full, and do NOT for the love of GOD ever blow a bubble or pop your gum if you have any self respect? </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"> Good golly and</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"> when people open their mouth and click-clack their mints or hard candy against their teeth I want to smack them. Blech. So gross. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMOnAs-QgZdAZ3TDaq9_bM-7aWHnPKiAk6RXpPv0upeY1QdzDcPWbgagILZ8dfSw77ynrMFNWbFTDjjc62Yph45fOOFNAyloJhT6cbtOMLEg3XrirM3eo1IUxeDAu7uI0_s9ZTzyioZq_/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMOnAs-QgZdAZ3TDaq9_bM-7aWHnPKiAk6RXpPv0upeY1QdzDcPWbgagILZ8dfSw77ynrMFNWbFTDjjc62Yph45fOOFNAyloJhT6cbtOMLEg3XrirM3eo1IUxeDAu7uI0_s9ZTzyioZq_/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">3.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Bringing smelly food in a (</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">small</span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">)public place</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">- <span style="font-size: x-small;">Again. Back to respecting the space you share with other people. If you are about to be in a VERY small place with VERY many people for what will feel like a VERY long time, like an airplane... Think about what you would want to be up close and personal in your space. If there's something you would not want near you or have to smell, then you can almost certainly guarantee that other people share that feeling. If as you get your carryout food from the food court at the airport you are overwhelmed by the strong fragrance (and it is ethnic, or pizza, or Subway- or anything with a strong pungent fragrance) please eat it before you board (or before you enter that board meeting with 20 people crowded around that tight table)! It is respectful. Plus think about how it feels when you have food trash in front of you after a meal. Do you really want to subject 100 other people to that for the next three hours? No thank you. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjsrUp57RBeDZQIhPpmfAxFvgJXJN4X5QybLwMb6yEdJfvTcM0jcLyFocvhGX4GCOF6fPHl_9cmyVFjRVXXVkhq99ATrryi52x1DuBirrBHJ9RwOMvgRAV3W6VLmQGJcGjcP1mdlmNZLZ/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjsrUp57RBeDZQIhPpmfAxFvgJXJN4X5QybLwMb6yEdJfvTcM0jcLyFocvhGX4GCOF6fPHl_9cmyVFjRVXXVkhq99ATrryi52x1DuBirrBHJ9RwOMvgRAV3W6VLmQGJcGjcP1mdlmNZLZ/s200/images.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXnXqI1q9O2aNN-6bgwJ026xTQgU61dHlfcksviW76qaqd5CbanV-HLnabXXOpSlpGlHWwMcQj6VFyUET9T3XZEEdVk1IEve_iQSa1Svdypgr3IkbeO2aM1IwZ41pe1EWTvASNwVXWZ5Rm/s1600/chinese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXnXqI1q9O2aNN-6bgwJ026xTQgU61dHlfcksviW76qaqd5CbanV-HLnabXXOpSlpGlHWwMcQj6VFyUET9T3XZEEdVk1IEve_iQSa1Svdypgr3IkbeO2aM1IwZ41pe1EWTvASNwVXWZ5Rm/s1600/chinese.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">4. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Too. Much. Perfume.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"> - <span style="font-size: x-small;">UG. Personal pet PEEVE. This is so rude. But also something I completely understand and just really wish people would think about. Scents are really a personal thing and something that can be really wonderful to one person and also really offensive to another. That new perfume you just absolutely love may make Mary Sue feel absolutely sick. When Margaret simply feels ill from anything floral, Sherry loves floral but cannot stand musky scents. That means- wear enough that <b>YOU</b> and <b>YOURS </b>can smell it when they get close. <b>Not</b></span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> enough that you and everyone within the mall with you knows that you sprayed 16 sprays, then jumped danced and twirled while singing Tayor Swift through the mist in the bathroom. </span></span><br />
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5. <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Too Much Luggage-</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: xx-small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">A few months ago I tweeted that I sincerely believe that the same people who board a plane at the last second with two large carry-ons and are pissed about no room are the exact same individuals who speed down the shoulder during dead-stopped traffic and cut into the line at the last second. It's the most retweets and favorites I've ever had on a single tweet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: xx-small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Every single airline is extremely explicit. You may have ONE carry on and ONE small additional bag, like a purse or laptop. That means one small rolling bag, ore one small duffel, or one tote, and a purse or a laptop bag. That does NOT mean that all of these jerks out here get to carry on two rolling suitcases and not pay to check a bag like the rest of us. And for the LIFE of me, since Delta and American Airlines and the rest of them are such sticklers with everything else- I don't get why they don't stop these fools. But every time I fly (which is quite a lot) I see these jerks with their two huge bags, plus a shopping bag or seven, and their purse, and their laptop bag, and their screaming toddler, and their bag of food. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small; text-align: center;">Two large roll ons, a duffle, a tote, a purse, a laptop case, and your 4 duty-free shopping bags is NOT the same as one carry-on and a small purse or additional bag. Show some R-E-S-P-E-C-T people! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLR93C3OQTSRUNTB10AlzE88Dz-mFZFEkMdZTm-29LnL-8zHqMp7MjCVq3WqhprEX0vouAdGUpAwxD7Q9gYigaBqkPvnqPsYsdYguz9qYqEd9uc3Va_V7Lp0WdrPThRs9ZDeYft8NDiuI/s1600/IMG_0782.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLR93C3OQTSRUNTB10AlzE88Dz-mFZFEkMdZTm-29LnL-8zHqMp7MjCVq3WqhprEX0vouAdGUpAwxD7Q9gYigaBqkPvnqPsYsdYguz9qYqEd9uc3Va_V7Lp0WdrPThRs9ZDeYft8NDiuI/s400/IMG_0782.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small; text-align: center;">This princess was on my recent flight from San Antonio (plus homegirl had a big Vera Bradley tote bag, and the largest size Longchamp bag, plus a laptop case. REALLY?!?). </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: x-small; text-align: center;">The thing these people don't consider is when THEY take two huge bags- they just think they are cheating the system but they are also cheating their fellow passengers out of precious cargo space. Homegirl had to put all 17 of her things up top, which meant 4 other people could not put theirs up top... Get it? It's just rude and inconsiderate. Think about other people for once!</span></i></td></tr>
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Ok. Rant over. What etiquette do you think is necessary?</div>
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What rules do you hate when people break?</div>
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<br />abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-33199618182300928992013-04-14T20:38:00.002-07:002013-04-14T20:38:30.615-07:0030 Pounds in 60 DaysI posted <a href="http://bestdressedfearless.blogspot.com/2013/04/wedding-and-marriage-planning.html" target="_blank">here</a> about not stressing about this wedding...about not taking this too seriously...about not wanting this to be a performance... about wanting this to be a celebration of our love and not some big show. <br />
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Fiancé moved to Memphis with me in October. Meaning no more me working out after work, hardly eating at all (I am naturally the lightest eater ever, added in with living alone= I hardly ever at at all... I was at one of my lowest weights...lucky me!).... Him moving in meant regular grocery shopping, cooking nightly meals, date nights at restaurants all the time... In addition to me having spent the summer living at home with him and my momma's cooking all summer... I have put on 30 pounds since last spring. My word, holy smokes, no bueno! <br />
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One of my good friends is an exercise <b>buff</b> and he is going to help me try and get back in shape so I feel my absolute best for this wedding. Not for anyone else, but for me. I want to look back on these pictures and know that I felt beautiful, that I was the bride I wanted to be, that I truly felt like Chris' princess. <br />
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He has created an entire meal and fitness plan for me for the next eight weeks leading up to my wedding (eight weeks! AH! I cannot wait to be Mrs. R! SO EXCITING!!!) It is going to be intense, twice a day workouts. But state tests for my kids are next week, and then my school year completely winds down. My fiancé works on weekends now, and I am excited for the challenge. <br />
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Here's the workout if anyone is interested- it's intense but should be a great challenge!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwftdf4zYDRK9JcPpH_sXP0KNrSzDqeUiruxuEqZV_U-UvXOacA7x2-DiJyo3TIRcdUdVA-k92uv38YUucfFyb-QfBqVarigxxCyK8VO5t6qMa8UHcLzNBy9-Pdf8F2Hp2zHX9bHm7FzS/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-14+at+10.35.40+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwftdf4zYDRK9JcPpH_sXP0KNrSzDqeUiruxuEqZV_U-UvXOacA7x2-DiJyo3TIRcdUdVA-k92uv38YUucfFyb-QfBqVarigxxCyK8VO5t6qMa8UHcLzNBy9-Pdf8F2Hp2zHX9bHm7FzS/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-04-14+at+10.35.40+PM.png" width="289" /></a></div>
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<br />abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-87066188895071695232013-04-12T08:01:00.000-07:002013-04-12T08:01:07.166-07:00high five for fridayLinking up with Lauren at <a href="http://www.frommygreydeskblog.com/" target="_blank">From my Grey Desk</a> for this High Five for Friday post!<br />
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This has been a week of ups and downs, but I'm trying to focus on the ups!<br />
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1. My sweet fiancé always reminds me what is important, and always takes care of me, even from thousands of miles away. He's seriously such a blessing, and too sweet for words.<br />
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2. When I'm down, my wonderful friends can always make me laugh if nothing else!<br />
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3. My good friend Pamela reminded me that retail therapy can cure all wounds (sorry, bank account...) So I found some great shops on the River Walk here in San Antonio and scores some great coral and mint maxis, AMAZING pink tribal sandals, a wonderful floral sundress, some cardis, and a darker mint sleeveless button down. This store we don't have in Memphis called <a href="http://www.papayaclothing.com/shop/" target="_blank">Papaya</a> was such a success!!</div>
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4. When I'm down my students can ALWAYS cheer me up. Like this goofball trying to convince me his wolf sweatshirt is "uniform" approved. My kids have to wear a white or navy polo shirt and khakis. No logos or print on their sweatshirts. Wolves are def not uniform approved...But sir here was trying to get past. No-go, mister, although I might be trying to steal that great crewneck for my own use ;)<br />
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5. I've had too much fun making wallpaper for my iPhone and MacBook pro that are monogrammed lately. I got an app and then have been making them using powerpoint and a website... And make too many cute ones and keep switching them on the reg because I can't pick which one I like the best. Which one do you like? Let me know if you want one! </div>
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What are your high fives for this week?</div>
abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-4906711818844894862013-04-11T19:09:00.004-07:002013-04-11T19:09:49.637-07:00Thankful ThursdayJudging by my last post, I have had a not so wonderful week. Finding out I no longer have a job for next year, less than two months away from my wedding... Not the best week of my life. But I am trying to look on the bright side. God has a plan for my fiancé and myself, and we will figure it out in His time. For now, I am on a National Science Teacher's Association conference in San Antonio, which has been a wonderful blessing of a retreat from real life. <br />
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I got the terrible news about my job on Monday, and flew out of Memphis bright and early Tuesday morning. What a needed break from school! <br />
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Monday night before I left, fiancé and I went out for dinner and drinks at one of our favorite places in Midtown Memphis - Young Avenue Deli. He's so sweet and knew I needed a treat after my terrible day. </div>
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Then to make my day even BETTER, we went to the best place ever known to man...</div>
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Jerry's Sno Cones. Life changing good. I get the Shrek, which is green apple and caramel with ice cream inside. Mmmm. If you're ever in Memph, let me know and I will take you - my treat! I will eat jerry's on the daily if given the option!</div>
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Last weekend I scored this ADORBS <a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=27171412&parentid=SEARCH+RESULTS" target="_blank">hair barrette</a> from Urban Outfitters and it matches my hair color perfectly, and looks as if I did that complicated bow hair-do floating around pinterest, minus some mad skills. Gotta love it! </div>
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This sweet fellow was waiting in the San Antonio airport greeting people... Oh howdy y'all. </div>
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Check out that hat and those boots, that vest... Oh herroooo. You know you're in Texas when...</div>
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Not that I can talk... Here's my fiancé before he went off to work last Saturday:</div>
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How's your week? What are you thankful for this Thursday?</div>
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abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-59131967407593344232013-04-09T11:19:00.004-07:002013-04-09T11:19:46.262-07:00Teaching Turmoil<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As you may know, I teach in Memphis at a low-income, low-performing school. I absolutely adore my school and the children I am blessed to work with daily. It has been very hard, but for the last two years I have cherished every moment of every day with my babies. I taught eighth grade science last year and teach seventh grade science this year. <br />
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Since our school is so low-performing, we were taken over by a special district called the "i-zone" for innovation zone of schools last year, within our regular school district and throughout the state of Tennessee. Every spring, we get evaluated based on a cumulative average of our evaluations throughout the year, surveys our students take rating our performance and something called TVAAS- where we are evaluated based on our test data. Some teachers do not have TVAAS data- librarians, gym and band teachers, first and second year teachers and special education teacher. TVAAS is based on a three year average of your test scores from state standardized tests. When you do not have TVAAS data, you do not have a choice but to have your score averaged based upon the school's score. Since my school is a low performing school, our school received a 1 out of 5 last year on this scale. This means that our librarian, gym teacher, special education teachers and first year teachers all got 1 out of 5 on TVAAS- regardless of our own successes or failures in the classroom. <br />
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To be hired in a low-performing school, a teacher must earn a 3 out of 5 in their cumulative score. Because of being averaged with the school's low score of a 1, this group of us would have theoretically been out of the running. However, since we were all actually high-performing teachers with good observation scores and our own test data (regardless of the school's data) was quite high, we were allowed to reapply for our jobs and stay another year. <br />
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I love the teachers I work with and am blessed to work with supportive, loving, believing, faithful wonderful men and women. These people truly care for the children they serve and work hard all day in their classrooms and stay hours after work, tutoring and mentoring, coaching and praying. <br />
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Yesterday, we were told that because of our TVAAS, we would not be allowed to return to our school next year. Even though our own data is fine, even though our own evaluations are 5 out of 5, even though we love these children with our whole beings and give our entire lives to serve and teach them- a flaw in the system and an administrator who is not willing to fight for us is meaning we have to lose these opportunities and apply to work at other schools in the school district that are higher performing. </div>
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Yes I can work at another school. But I have a heart for my Hamilton Wildcats. This was my first school after working in summer school in Atlanta and doing my student teaching in Virginia. These are my babies. They taught me to love. They taught me what caring is. They taught me about commitment, about inner strength, about never giving up. And I'm not ready to give up this part of my life yet. </div>
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No more connect four to review parts of a cell and cell organelles. </div>
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No more cheerleading practice. </div>
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<span aria-live="polite" class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; outline: none; text-align: left; width: auto;" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption" data-gt="{"timeline_og_unit_click":"1","app_id":"124024574287414","action_type_id":"282366618453208","object_type":"instapp:photo","unit_id":"447280888645770","og_ref":"ogexp"}">No more adorable quotes: "Ms dean what if I took off Desmond's arm? It would grow back?" " can you eat starfish?" Can that starfish see us? What do they taste like? Why is it red? How many starfish are in Japan? (?) why didn't nemos fin grow back?"</span></span></div>
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No more having my sweet fiancé come to Saturday school and work with my boys on their math skills. He's wonderful with my kids and they LOVE and need positive male role models.</div>
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No more little lovelies begging to play with my hair and asking adorable questions about why it feels that way, why it grows that way, why it doesn't hold a curl or a braid like theirs does.</div>
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No more twin days.</div>
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No more having my facebook hacked when I leave my phone on my desk and my ladies upload selfies to my facebook instagram and twitter (happens weekly! haha)</div>
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No more cheerleading practices and basketball games, the girls convincing me to put on a uniform and show them my "flips" and do a back handspring (and be limping for weeks afterward!)</div>
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No more notes from my eighth graders as they leave to go onto high school and accomplishing every dream their sweet hearts can ever dream.</div>
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I don't want to leave. </div>
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<br />abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-73591435268076444142013-04-04T22:46:00.000-07:002013-04-04T22:50:57.649-07:00Why I quit BirchboxEvery blog seems to love subscription services lately. Who wouldn't? We all love mail, and paying once a month to get a fun package that you don't quite expect but are highly anticipating- so fun! <br />
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After reading blog after blog about the wonder of birchbox ( <a href="http://www.birchbox.com/" target="_blank">http://www.birchbox.com</a> ) about a year and a half ago I felt like I had to try it. I signed up, waited on the waitlist for a while and got an email that my monthly subscription would be coming the next month.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcX7wkuvW2h8VFsN0n3or_qKEFLGFVxjeNSuTMDLVI9d1Gy-5iTnwuaE3xJ7IrqAaXTkVo-knNRFsK-OLqePahmwF_5AXeyBeddx-psFRrk66qjd7p9FIVKEW4rrzeL-FcYEtytqKgK8G/s1600/BB24-TanyaC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBcX7wkuvW2h8VFsN0n3or_qKEFLGFVxjeNSuTMDLVI9d1Gy-5iTnwuaE3xJ7IrqAaXTkVo-knNRFsK-OLqePahmwF_5AXeyBeddx-psFRrk66qjd7p9FIVKEW4rrzeL-FcYEtytqKgK8G/s1600/BB24-TanyaC.jpg" /></a></div>
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Then came month after month of delayed packages and lost packaged. I have a roommate and we both ordered it at the same time, and would get our shipping confirmations at the same time. However, our packages would arrive three weeks to a month apart. Two or three times the packages never arrived, and we had to call and get a second package shipped. Their customer service department was sweet as can be, but this hassle wasn't worth the products I got.<br />
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I love makeup and trying new makeup, and am fine with perfume now and then. But every month I would get a perfume sample, often the same Juicy Couture one I had received before. These are the same perfume samples you can pick up for free if you go into Nordstrom and ask for them- so that was frustrating. Additionally, you do not get "deluxe" samples, you get small packets of face wash and body cream, that often are good for half of one use and there is barely anything in the packet. No thank you! I wanted more out of my subscription service. <br />
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I started searching...<br />
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Bring in <a href="http://www.ipsy.com/" target="_blank">the ipsy glam bag</a> ! This subscription service is only $10 a month ( same price as Birchbox) but offers <b>deluxe </b>samples, high-end makeup (think Nars orgasm blush, great quality mascara, actual bottles of lotions and hand creams- amazing things!). Not only that- but each month in your package you get an adorable little cosmetic bag to tote your cute new things around. They come packaged in these cute little cosmetic pouches, which are <b>so</b> useful for the pool, beach, or my bag for work! <br />
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The March glam bag was a precious anchor print and came with some amazing scores. Unlike Birchbox, everyone gets the same thing- so you won't see a blog post where some famous blogger got high end cosmetics and you got last months things <b>again</b> (cough Birchbox!). Shown above is March's glambag, where I received a pouch of to-go makeup removers- so useful! Then there was a magnetic compact with some wonderful eyeshadows by GlamRX and a mirror, and a deluxe (key word here ladies...) spray bottle of organic hydrating mist for face or hair. So fun and useful! </div>
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What do you think? Do you love your Birchbox? Have you tried other subscription services? </div>
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I also <b>adore <a href="http://www.julep.com/" target="_blank">julep</a> </b>for a monthly nail polish and beauty supply fix, and am currently OBSESSED with <a href="https://www.ellie.com/" target="_blank">pvBody or Ellie</a> (their company just switched names)- a $50 a month designer workout clothing subscription where you can pick your clothes or have them pick an outfit. </div>
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How do you feel about subscription services? What's your favorite?</div>
<br />abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-13961252639653840302013-04-04T22:30:00.004-07:002013-04-05T05:32:40.188-07:00High Five for Friday<div style="text-align: center;">
My first High Five for Friday Post!</div>
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1. We live fifteen hours (at least!) from all of our family and friends back home, so care packages are always welcomed with open hearts and a sweet reminder of the wonderful people who love us and raise us. My sweet Great Aunt Grace sent me the most darling package as she was cleaning out her house. I worked at a Mexican restaurant in high school (bring on the chips and salsa addiction!) and she thought of me when she found a collection of hispanic-styled cooking supplies and shipped them to us for our new kitchen. So sweet!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyss_0YorEWxGm2L2k9NOJkbhhmiR6NhUKBph7XLe37_p7yEze-I600tskv-hd15sRLcLCS019BKXIYyLzONlF4qBZzGkpIyogP8xg1NTAMZcpi2iWT1Cw6BOsSZHtcb_0JkwxwIOve5qv/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyss_0YorEWxGm2L2k9NOJkbhhmiR6NhUKBph7XLe37_p7yEze-I600tskv-hd15sRLcLCS019BKXIYyLzONlF4qBZzGkpIyogP8xg1NTAMZcpi2iWT1Cw6BOsSZHtcb_0JkwxwIOve5qv/s320/IMG_0587.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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2. Our closet completely came CRASHING down in the middle of the night. But it's a high five because I did some major cleaning out, aka now I justified going on some major online shopping sprees and got more of my favorite shirts (<a href="http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/search.jsp?q=daydreamer+la" target="_blank">urban outfitters daydreamer la</a> - they are a DREAM to wear with anything. Similar fabric and fit to those fabulous PIKO shirts everyone is talking about, at a fraction of the cost. I seriously have multiples, in every color. And 3 black, and 2 grey. Not a problem at all...)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphengDHdEVtM4SuO_5oLbTa46xEOgMUh-59T0HwJrC2RIWDtZqn8uJvxNTWzcxFXe5RJM3SyYJACFPbWrLSLQU0Kzo8CKVYBxfrmwsvD2wkz9c2fmrqeW9FTm4_goKoCnzY23GHXk2buA3M/s1600/IMG_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphengDHdEVtM4SuO_5oLbTa46xEOgMUh-59T0HwJrC2RIWDtZqn8uJvxNTWzcxFXe5RJM3SyYJACFPbWrLSLQU0Kzo8CKVYBxfrmwsvD2wkz9c2fmrqeW9FTm4_goKoCnzY23GHXk2buA3M/s320/IMG_0591.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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3. After days on days of color-coordinated spreadsheets and address-checking from the West Coast to England, our wedding invitations are all DONE and MAILED OUT. Check!</div>
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4. I teach seventh grade science and my kids and I had a BLAST playing Connect Four on the smartboard as a review game of cell organelles. Love when the kids actually connect with a lesson :) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-EnrVu2rXgyXq2Y1zMvoEpMvARjwhyzfcNz2ZLD-S88FdBSgaN9TQThVsak5pm8Tcydmp9MkXU8D3gE5YkXn1njCRWk4JR31-wyVsyHtLrlJ0xCm5t86ZEF0LiGOaTIcjom6krmWzzLjj/s1600/IMG_0649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-EnrVu2rXgyXq2Y1zMvoEpMvARjwhyzfcNz2ZLD-S88FdBSgaN9TQThVsak5pm8Tcydmp9MkXU8D3gE5YkXn1njCRWk4JR31-wyVsyHtLrlJ0xCm5t86ZEF0LiGOaTIcjom6krmWzzLjj/s320/IMG_0649.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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5. Tonight for dinner Chris and I ordered in sushi and Chinese, and this was his fortune. Perfect, because we got reminded that there are only 63 short days until our wedding - thus 64 short days until our Caribbean honeymoon cruise. Take me away to warm sand beaches and a margarita, please!</div>
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What are your high fives for Friday?</div>
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Linked up with <a href="http://www.frommygreydeskblog.com/2013/04/high-five-for-friday.html" target="_blank">Lauren at From my Grey Desk</a> for this high five for friday :)abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-58704520682435181712013-04-04T06:46:00.003-07:002013-04-04T22:47:25.835-07:00Wedding and Marriage PlanningPlanning a wedding from fifteen hours away has been the<span style="font-size: large;"> ideal circumstance</span> for my fiancé and myself.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOjxdZ4vgmzC41BdbEod_ThExkdR7cENKqh0IlHYFCQhac1qbAcODVsoLFCpOuuejEdUCzhUMzs42NgemF-GF316YgXtDSCjR3GTvpr_37o2dY7byC2yKCKrr1FIJOSr07oxuyDyRZ-243/s1600/IMG_0610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOjxdZ4vgmzC41BdbEod_ThExkdR7cENKqh0IlHYFCQhac1qbAcODVsoLFCpOuuejEdUCzhUMzs42NgemF-GF316YgXtDSCjR3GTvpr_37o2dY7byC2yKCKrr1FIJOSr07oxuyDyRZ-243/s320/IMG_0610.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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When we got engaged last June 4, one of the first things we talked about was how we did <b>not </b>want to jump right into wedding planning. We wanted to really embrace this season, be happy and celebrate <u>us</u> for right now, and just have fun at this special time that we would never ever have again. You really are only engaged to that special person one time, and that time is too often bogged down with stress over cake-tasting and dress-fittings, matching table-linens and candle colors, meeting with seventeen different florists to pick the perfect sized roses to accompany your arrangements. We vowed not to do that. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPZtgMvZWCEHkImcRsFWsGOF7GTAwV01T5KWUmXzu0IZX1xSecLLyDDfreoA1TXmK5NcNJjmvSZUK8YZst5DWrRTtajFrTBg52DgTw_Z3IqTJh4SCa6MH3fn_bqxQEikafTDISDL9ziIw/s1600/IMG_0607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPZtgMvZWCEHkImcRsFWsGOF7GTAwV01T5KWUmXzu0IZX1xSecLLyDDfreoA1TXmK5NcNJjmvSZUK8YZst5DWrRTtajFrTBg52DgTw_Z3IqTJh4SCa6MH3fn_bqxQEikafTDISDL9ziIw/s320/IMG_0607.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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We live in Memphis and are getting married in our hometown in Maryland, and so for a large part, most of that decision was made for us. Honestly, my mom has called me an apathetic-zilla instead of a bride-zilla because I refuse to sweat the details of this wedding. It will be beautiful, people will come, it will be an unforgettable celebration of sweet love. Will it be a performance? Holy smokes, no. Will I be screaming at florists and caterers because some shade of yellow is just slightly off and the roses are the wrong size? My word, I plan not to!<br />
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We intentionally planned very slowly, with the mindset that we knew what we wanted to happen and it would all work out. We are getting married in my parents' church where we met as middle schoolers on a mission trip when I was 10 and Christopher was 12. The ceremony will be at five in the afternoon, technically not black tie, but late enough in the day that the reception will be dark and dancing and drinking can ensue under sparkling lights and tulle. The men ordered tan suits, I bought the third dress I tried on from a boutique in Maryland. I don't have shoes yet- I will wear white and gold Jack Rogers or my cowboy boots and be comfortable and feel pretty. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI49dmhAvWoMGcnHbtUeznaMf6j-JpI8YDbMb4em1ktuQDiKIR4sQFJnQv1l0SMW3vZFTgCCoV6pyKK6J4kUtzu0uavBx8SHPffz5wMvm5vZOKAk4AF-CfLm5afUVoXxxbiBzAXfl6HtfG/s1600/IMG_0609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI49dmhAvWoMGcnHbtUeznaMf6j-JpI8YDbMb4em1ktuQDiKIR4sQFJnQv1l0SMW3vZFTgCCoV6pyKK6J4kUtzu0uavBx8SHPffz5wMvm5vZOKAk4AF-CfLm5afUVoXxxbiBzAXfl6HtfG/s320/IMG_0609.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We booked a caterer, ordered tents for my parents' property (we're doing the reception in their backyard) and bought our flowers from Costco (who knew- they have a wedding florist! It runs about 1/4 of the cost of private florists and the arrangements are simple and gorgeous. Exactly what we are going for. Plain yellow roses. Delightful!)<br />
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The honeymoon is booked, I bought my invitations from exclusivelyweddings.com and they are to DIE for, and I handwrote all of them in one weekend infront of an endless SVU marathon on my couch. Sent them out this Monday. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog2JXn_om2PIqxj93oz5_05SE3eu8uxUuRwKf6VBfWe5ySnQPcyROmxQilv8kLpN0hGxjra-5DeRLkBNXr0XZwT71FX87KQzcZXKA6m1S2K0Weho4313LnJqqE6PLvTIb88sBrAN50rEg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-04+at+8.44.59+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog2JXn_om2PIqxj93oz5_05SE3eu8uxUuRwKf6VBfWe5ySnQPcyROmxQilv8kLpN0hGxjra-5DeRLkBNXr0XZwT71FX87KQzcZXKA6m1S2K0Weho4313LnJqqE6PLvTIb88sBrAN50rEg/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-04-04+at+8.44.59+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
These are the invites we ordered, but all the writing was in navy blue embossed type, no odd swirly thing at the top? and then our envelopes had navy blue inserts. But we did have the yellow around the outsides of the invites and reception cards/response cards. All navy and yellow!<br />
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There is too much stress about wedding planning, and not nearly enough emphasis on marriage planning. Christopher and I know we are getting married, and that the wedding will be a very important, special and magical day. But more important, special and magical will be our <b>marriage</b>. We want to focus our efforts, prayers, concerns and energy on planning for that. We are taking pre-marital counseling at a church here in Memphis, which is a prerequisite to get married in the Presbyterian church. But it's been fascinating to answer the questions and have the honest conversations, to hear about one another's childhoods in a raw honest form.<br />
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More-so than premarital counseling, Chris and I moved in with each other and living together before marriage has been <b>so good</b> for our relationship. I am so so glad that we did this before we got married. It has set up the most wonderful foundation for our marriage, and much more than wedding planning, I am so happy we are mutually focused on <u>marriage planning</u>. We now know who hates folding laundry, who really struggles with early mornings, who needs to listen to music in the shower to calm down. We understand who appreciates help with groceries, who needs to be alone after work and what it looks like when one of us really just needs a hug. We understand who listens to rock music when they're angry, who cleans as a way of dealing with stress. We now know so much more about ourselves and one another than we ever did before. We are marriage planning rather than wedding planning, and it is the best decision we could have made for our future success as husband and wife.<br />
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How did you plan for a marriage instead of just your wedding?</div>
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Any wedding planning advice?</div>
abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7797146196280398262.post-64837123989825853682013-01-03T12:02:00.002-08:002013-01-03T12:02:16.743-08:00Engagement Photoshootsome of our favorites from our october photoshoot with the amazing and talented brad barnwell (www.bradbarnwell.com)
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Z7YfWqzMI4GeQMpSXunzbo8uDVIOD1RAeGwyyp90EsjutAHxxk_wkiiFit-mEoXrcSgyRJEeK5FwdRSF7uQiggYwSOg7O6dIjyZrv0YT8UHLrXKJ6vxcVbRhnSxjnpx6D-180TWRroV3/s1600/DSC_0629-qpr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="213" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Z7YfWqzMI4GeQMpSXunzbo8uDVIOD1RAeGwyyp90EsjutAHxxk_wkiiFit-mEoXrcSgyRJEeK5FwdRSF7uQiggYwSOg7O6dIjyZrv0YT8UHLrXKJ6vxcVbRhnSxjnpx6D-180TWRroV3/s320/DSC_0629-qpr.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5pAiAhR2e2lfu8AfzaxOeSC8zeuV7-_NDYI44Yr1dw4cDsge1_puHP8kw4NrJur7DOaUay9yPepQppLSM7shjaTPOeaq5rZOm0okVQrBjcSSUakRZBL-6zbhe4JD4GHlUaH1m4nKZpd6M/s1600/DSC_0624-qpr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5pAiAhR2e2lfu8AfzaxOeSC8zeuV7-_NDYI44Yr1dw4cDsge1_puHP8kw4NrJur7DOaUay9yPepQppLSM7shjaTPOeaq5rZOm0okVQrBjcSSUakRZBL-6zbhe4JD4GHlUaH1m4nKZpd6M/s320/DSC_0624-qpr.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3dfsVYH0TtL3thJvafFgO-jGSv4OAN-1yqNcCFgLgtAPjkiHti1AIN_nSTk6tYqSqIdKdrBbwQPMpB8U5p9vyc2fXaFlyq2uz8nuecFL7R9njgjgurhVRw63-t-kPlShAGR4ZfkX_Blh/s1600/DSC_0617-qpr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="213" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3dfsVYH0TtL3thJvafFgO-jGSv4OAN-1yqNcCFgLgtAPjkiHti1AIN_nSTk6tYqSqIdKdrBbwQPMpB8U5p9vyc2fXaFlyq2uz8nuecFL7R9njgjgurhVRw63-t-kPlShAGR4ZfkX_Blh/s320/DSC_0617-qpr.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BeqjsxqeMShgBoavHsOmt4ND3FRLl1QIXkw1heN9rhWT5TuBDe-UgixGcRuWshMlyJNB9fOcERxfHnpiRWmgyqsIjgxhyphenhyphen4g6cU1VuaU-smW_CK5sVKjDHKJ-TFEfYu7FiwUJZ93jVPVm/s1600/DSC_0708-qpr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="213" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BeqjsxqeMShgBoavHsOmt4ND3FRLl1QIXkw1heN9rhWT5TuBDe-UgixGcRuWshMlyJNB9fOcERxfHnpiRWmgyqsIjgxhyphenhyphen4g6cU1VuaU-smW_CK5sVKjDHKJ-TFEfYu7FiwUJZ93jVPVm/s320/DSC_0708-qpr.jpg" /></a></div>
and for the real keeper...
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abigail mackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00609615917936164930noreply@blogger.com2