<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Thu, 07 Jul 2011 20:52:26 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>A Moment In Time....</title><description>An online journal documenting moments in time significant and otherwise.</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>125</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-5393348373652495857</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Oct 2009 01:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-17T19:21:45.767-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Change</category><title>Moving Day!</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I finally did it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I packed my blogger bags and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;moved myself over to WordPress. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Be sure to check out my new blog site at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meandmymoments.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;www.meandmymoments.wordpress.com&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I look forward to see you there!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-5393348373652495857?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/moving-day.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-6636753459715544685</guid><pubDate>Sat, 17 Oct 2009 06:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-17T00:41:57.311-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Life Journey</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>Lobster Tales (part duex)</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Remember, don’t do anything you can’t tell me about later” – my wonderful mother&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure my mother will attest to the fact there are many words of advice she has told me over the course of my life which have flowed in one ear and directly out the other. Whether she realizes it or not, the above statement has stuck with me in the back of my mind – always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won’t claim to be completely innocent as if I told my mother everything, but for the most part I always stayed on the straight and narrow. As I have grown older, I have shared various stories that shocked her to learn the truth, but most were minor infractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I felt as though I had finally found my lobster it was painful to keep the relationship that made me so happy from my mother and the rest of my family. It was painful because I do have such a close relationship with my siblings, sister-in-law, and mother, as you can see from their wonderful comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telling my mother I was gay was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do, not because I was afraid how she would react but because of the circumstances of my relationship. I sat across from my mother in tears hardly able to speak only able to mutter that I had done something very wrong. As I sat there with my head hung low, I shamefully admitted to my mother that I had been involved in a relationship with a married woman. She later revealed that she was relieved to hear that “was it” because she thought I was about to tell I was on drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our story is complicated, there are no words that will help you understand our relationship or how this was more than a typical lustful affair. If you care to even begin to comprehend the pain of married gay women, I suggest you read the story of &lt;a href="http://www.awakeningsblog.com/2007/10/personal/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;this woman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(the link will direct you to the beginning of her story). I do not believe that my lover experienced the same emotions as the author of this blog. Over time, I have come to believe that she was acting from a place of selfishness and not emotional struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never did I expect our relationship to develop beyond anything more than communications by phone &amp;amp; email. However the emotions were strong and a relationship was inevitable. It was easy to pass our relationship off as just a strong friendship. Our kids loved each other, we had many things in common, and therefore our “friendship” never drew any questions from her husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with all affairs, eventually the truth is found. I could not be more ashamed and regretful of my lack of self control. I believe those closest to me understand how much my behavior goes against my moral fiber. It has taken me a very long time to forgive myself for my actions. Sometimes I realize there is still a lot of healing to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the truth had been revealed our relationship went through various stages spanning more than three years. Initially, she cut me off completely. She would not even take my calls to let me know what was happening. Keep in mind this is someone that told me many lies leading me to believe our relationship was something she wanted long term in her life. We made plans together. We dreamed about our future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly we began communicating again. We even took a preplanned trip to Italy just months after her husband discovered our relationship. There were a substantial number signs, which I chose not to see, that indicated she was being dishonest with me. I found out in very hurtful ways that she was begging her husband not to leave her most of the time we were away. Karma I now realize I deserved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months passed. She made no attempt to move on with life. Her husband supports her financially and neither have a desire to change their lives. Her being gay is something they have agreed to live with as element of their relationship. I should mention I was not her first affair. Supposedly, she told her husband about the other affairs but I have no way to know what they have discussed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a long time to realize that I was being strung along. She was telling me what she knew I needed to hear to keep me in the picture and doing the same with him. If you read back through the comments on my blog you will see some of these comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing increasingly aware of the real picture, I finally cut off communication. Cheaters never leave and never stop cheating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was/am deeply ashamed of my actions. The pain I caused is unforgiveable. The way I dealt with the emotional stress was to eat, eat, and eat. The combination of weight gain and self loathing created my depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved her. She was my first. I am still uncertain that I will ever meet anyone that will equal our emotional and sexual compatibility. I will try and dating is my next adventure (and blog post).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it turns out, lobsters do not mate for life. The female lobster pursues the male lobster until he succumbs to her scent welcoming her in to his den. The female then molts, shedding her hard protective shell, they mate, and the female stays in the den until her shell has grown back. After that time, the attraction between the two subsides and they part ways without even looking back. Basically, the relationship is all about sex. Coincidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am living an honest open life now. I made a mistake but it was a mistake that helped me discover who I am. That is not an excuse or a way to ask for forgiveness it just is what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dirty little secret is exposed. I am ready to move on. I just hope now I have something interesting to write about to keep this blog chugging along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-6636753459715544685?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/remember-dont-do-anything-you-cant-tell.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-8672518180826619372</guid><pubDate>Fri, 16 Oct 2009 01:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-15T21:07:17.452-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Money</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Vacation</category><title>Fall Break: No Beaches - No Theme Parks</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This week my son has been on Fall break from school. This is the first time in years we have not taken a vacation during one of his breaks. My soul is in deep need of a vacation. It is more than just a simple desire it is an intrinsic need that I require to remain whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't require an expensive elaborate vacation. I simply need to be surrounded by the sound of the waves crashing, the comfort of the sand between my toes, and the beauty of a sunset falling beneath the oceans horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality is, times are tight. Although I am busy with pending deals and new leads, closings are not happening as quickly as I would hope. As a result, we need to keep extra money in our pockets and our bums close to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is still important to me to keep my son active therefore it's time to get creative to allow our minds and bodies to stay in motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday my brother &amp;amp; sister in-law had to work regardless of the holiday, so we had a sleep over with my nephew the night before. The boys played hard Sunday night but still woke up early the next morning. We spent the afternoon at a local park running up and down the hills until I began coughing so badly the other mommies scooped up their kids running &amp;amp; screaming "Swine Flu, Swine flu" - oh alright I made that last part up. We finished up the afternoon with a ride on the train around the park. Both boys were zonked out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393043862796302130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/Stfw0dQS9zI/AAAAAAAAAjU/sPC5kRQ9WVo/s400/IMG00061.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Tuesday, I opted for something a little more educational. My son, the reader, has been begging me for a trip to the bookstore. Knowing I would not walk out of the store without spending less than $50.00, I decided we would take a trip to the public library, something we have never done together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started off the afternoon with a nice walk around the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.riparianinstitute.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Riparian Reserve&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; located next to the library. The weather has eased up so it was a nice comfortable walk which gave my son &amp;amp; I the opportunity to talk, laugh, and enjoy each other - no cell phones or other interruptions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393033458332924226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/StfnW1m6-UI/AAAAAAAAAi8/DZYkWpnx260/s400/IMG00064.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393033439898208114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/StfnVw7vh3I/AAAAAAAAAi0/_6oh2uV4MJM/s400/IMG00065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;After we navigated our way through reserve we headed over to the library. I was excited to introduce my son to the library. I was sure he would walk out with an armful of books eager to return in the near future. My son was on a mission to find a specific collection of books. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393033469872702482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/StfnXgmOBBI/AAAAAAAAAjE/pcAeS6vo9J0/s400/IMG00068.jpg" border="0" /&gt;These books were evidently on the top of every other kids list too because nothing was available. He quickly got discouraged despite me walking up and down the aisles pointing out books with similar stories. I got frustrated by his attitude which of course did not help the situation. Realizing my irritation would only damper the experience further I shook it off the best I could. As we walked out we noticed they were having a used book fair. I quickly scanned the books for anything of interest when I came across two perfect for my son. At .50 cents each we snapped them up. He spent the rest of the afternoon buried in his new books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday was the hump day to clearly get over like a hurdle. I woke up with no plan. Since the beginning of the week my son had been playing a Wii game called Endless Ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FpHQinpnum4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FpHQinpnum4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a fantastic game where, he as the diver, navigates the ocean to discover various sea creatures. He has spent hours searching for creatures then using his favorite sea book as a resource to learn more about the animals. Ordinarily, I would not allow him so much time in front of a video game but this one was creating thought on many levels. He was using the books index, glossary and content to further his knowledge base.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Later that morning, I found a 2 for 1 coupon to the IMAX theatre that was showing a 3D movie -&lt;a href="http://www.imax.com/underthesea/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Under The Sea&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I knew this was an excellent idea as he excitedly pointed out all the creatures he has learned about through his game &amp;amp; book. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393033900549408386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/Stfnwk_jBoI/AAAAAAAAAjM/1lwV1oyf7Cs/s400/IMG00069.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today, Thursday, we spent the day with friends. The kids played while my friend and I worked in her yard tearing down a cement boarder they are replacing in their landscaping. Two trips to the dump, good conversation, a little ice cream for the kids, it was a fun day including the heavy lifting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tomorrow we will round off our fall break with a trip the movies to see "Where The Wilds Things Are". The kids are excited but I am SUPER DUPER excited. This is a piece of my childhood lived out on the big screen. I CAN'T WAIT!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;All in all, our at home fall break has been fun, educational, and inexpensive. I still long to be near the ocean but I am thankful for the time I have had with my son. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I hope everyone has had or will have an enjoyable fall break. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sorry for the poor quality of the pictures. these were impromtu taken with my blackberry)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-8672518180826619372?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/fall-break-no-beaches-no-theme-parks.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/Stfw0dQS9zI/AAAAAAAAAjU/sPC5kRQ9WVo/s72-c/IMG00061.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-8436454563827429747</guid><pubDate>Tue, 13 Oct 2009 01:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-12T18:44:35.157-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Life Journey</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>caught in between</title><description>i am caught&lt;br /&gt;caught in between….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught in between…&lt;br /&gt;loving you and forgetting you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught in between…&lt;br /&gt;a place of comfort and a place of risk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught in between…&lt;br /&gt;feelings of loneliness and feelings of great love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught in between...&lt;br /&gt;being selfish and being selfless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught in between…&lt;br /&gt;your reality and mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught in between…&lt;br /&gt;the person i am and the person i want to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am caught&lt;br /&gt;caught in between…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-8436454563827429747?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/caught-in-between.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-3079402848987506180</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 18:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-08T11:26:59.102-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Life Journey</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>a</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>When Did I Become Such An Open Book?</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am beginning to realize that the difficulty I am having in finishing my story has less to do with me feeling ill this week and more to do with the complexity of the story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The depth of the story must be told from an honest forgiving point of view which I am not sure I possess at the moment. I failed to realize how the raw and powerful nature of the feelings that still remain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had forgiven myself, yet knowing the judgement I have left to face has caused me to question whether I am ready to put it out there for the worlds interpretation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I thinking posting such personal information on the internet? It is called a personal life for a reason. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it is the Nyquil talking but I am pretty sure I have fallen off my rocker. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did I become such an open book?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-3079402848987506180?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-did-i-become-such-open-book.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-5710731825749705929</guid><pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 18:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-07T11:48:22.634-07:00</atom:updated><title>Cloudy, achy, tired, &amp; grumpy</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It has been nearly a week since I posted the first half of my Lobster Tales. I would like to say the reason I have not returned to tell the rest of the story is because I want to leave you all with a happy ending. Unfortunately, I am a bit more of a realist than that and must fess up to the real reason. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday afternoon I began feeling BLAH. My body was achy and my heading was pounding. I quickly decided I was not going to be brought down by any horrible viruses. I had plans to meet with on of my weight loss teammates to weigh-in for the week. We planned to meet an hour early to get a last minute workout in before stepping on the scale. Against my bodies will, I walked and ran for about an hour. I felt much better after and even better when the scale revealed a loss of 10 pounds! Whoohooo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, feeling even better, I went with my brother for 3 mile walk and bleacher run at the high school. My sister-in-law was scheduled for outpatient surgery Tuesday morning so I stayed the night to help out with my nephew. I woke up feeling fine, rushed the two boys off to school then headed out for two morning appointments. By the time I slouched in to my office chair it all hit me in a big way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long story short is....I feel like crapola!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I slept from 5 pm - 7 pm, woke up made dinner then crawled in bed around 9:30 pm. I am mostly exhausted but I can't seem to clear my head to put two thoughts together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to  have my wits about me enough to finish the story later this week.&lt;/span&gt; Until then, hang tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHEERS! (**holding my little cup of NyQuil high in the air**)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-5710731825749705929?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/cloudy-achy-tired-grumpy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-6507331830389009301</guid><pubDate>Fri, 02 Oct 2009 05:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-01T22:12:38.970-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>Lobster Tales</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Because she’s your lobster….Come on, you guys, it's a known fact that lobsters fall in love and mate for life. You know what, you can actually see old lobster couples walking around their tank, you know, holding claws…” – Pheobe – Friends&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The process of my self discovery was not easy and brought me far closer to self destruction than I would have liked. I am not the person that has known I was gay since I was six years old. I am not the person that knew when I was a teenager. I am the person that stumbled upon these feelings, tried desperately to understand, then one day said “OH MY GOD – THAT’S WHY!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never boy crazy like my friends. I did not date in high school. I did not date in college. I did not date. I have had only two boyfriends. One when I was 18 and the other when I was 25. Sex was not something I craved and mostly something I did because that is what you do. Most of my sexual encounters were driven by alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond sex, I have never emotionally connected with a man the way I have seen with some of my very happily married friends. I figured it was because I had not yet met “the one”. I spent countless hours and dollars combing through online profiles and even a dating service only to find the smallest flaw or reason to dismiss the possibility of a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The process of admitting to myself that I was gay was like trying to find my way out of a dark room. Not ever having an intimate experience with a woman I did not know if what I was feeling was merely fantasy or true feelings. When I developed feelings for my friend I tried hard to brush it off as just a rare connection. Then, I progressed to acknowledging my feelings, sharing them with her, then headed straight (no pun intended) into denial. “I am not a lesbian – I just fall in love with people not parts.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I surfed the internet for stories like mine, people like me, as if I waiting for a website to say – YEP, you are member of the club. It was during one of these searches that I discovered a lesbian chat forum. Most of the time I sat quietly watching the conversation roll by until one day behind my anonymous user name (give you two guesses what it was) I began chatting. I began asking questions. I began telling my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part I was ignored but one person responded offering advice. Before long, our conversation evolved, I must have made a comment about my line of work. As it turned out, we both worked in a niche within the mortgage industry, she in California, me in Arizona. We privately exchanged emails with the intent to possibly refer business to each other in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a couple of days maybe even a week before I emailed her my electronic business card. She replied with her information. We bantered back and forth via email for weeks with the content getting more and more flirtatious. Emails developed into instant messaging then phone calls that would last for hours. We talked about everything. Never in my life had I ever shared so many intimate details about my emotions, my desires, my dreams. We laughed, we cried, we connected. I had fallen in love with a woman who I had never even been in the presence of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a couple of months we decided to meet. I will not tell you the details, for that you will have to buy the book, but I will tell you this…from the moment I touched her for the first time I knew with every ounce of my being that this is what I had been waiting for all my life. Finally, I knew what love felt like, I knew what intimacy was supposed to be, I finally knew who I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our love affair continued heating up- we began vacationing with our kids. Some vacations were elaborate while others consisted of just us and the kids at my home playing at the park, having Saturday morning breakfast, normal everyday people kinds of things. Everything we did jelled so well, we balanced each other out in ways I never knew someone could balance out in me. She taught me to slow down and enjoy the simple moments in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had found the love of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I really hate to do this….but I will be back with the rest of the story…unfortunately it may not be until late this weekend!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s. If you missed it, I have answered some of the questions posted. I imagine there will be more questions. I will continue to answer any questions in the post titled &lt;a href="http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-you-ask-i-will-tell.html"&gt;"You Ask, I Tell"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-6507331830389009301?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/lobster-tales.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-8388735687806269702</guid><pubDate>Fri, 02 Oct 2009 04:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-01T22:16:37.395-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>If You Ask, I Will Tell</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;First I want to thank everyone for the positive comments. Secondly, I want to thank those that may not understand for listening. I am open to answering any questions as long as you are open to hearing what I have to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"You have obviously had relationships with men. You've even talked about a few. Were you just trying to be "normal" because you were afraid of your real feelings or are you actually still attracted to men, but just prefer women?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think I may have answered this in my new post but I will try to expand. I never dated much. I was not boy crazy. I the friendships I had with my “girl” friends were more important to me than anything. I would often get very jealous when a friend would start dating someone. Not jealous of the guy but jealous that there was someone else closer to my friend than I was. I never understood it – I would just lash out being a bitch. I can remember this happening as early as the 8th grade. Sex was something I did when I was drunk. No feelings and NO FEELING (catch my drift). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Friendships with women were/are difficult for me. I was/am always afraid I would say or do something that “normal” women don’t do or express in a relationship with their “girl friends”. Again, I did not understand why and just chalked it up to being emotionally defunct as a result of some wacky thing that must have happened in my childhood. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Am I still attracted to men? I am not blind, there are men I find very attractive. The difference is and has always been there is no tingle in my special places when I see a sexy man. Conversely, when I see an attractive woman, (eehemm….&lt;a href="http://parentheticalthoughts.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/jillian-michaels-666x1000-72kb-media-3057-media-124411-1193548806.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;JILLIAN MICHAELS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;) the hairs on the back of my next stand up, my blood pressure rises and I lose all sense of speech. Hahaha…but true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is not a preference or a choice. It is what turns me on. It is how the person I love fits best in my arms. The way my heart goes thump thump thump thump. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"I did want to ask how dad took the news but you mentioned in this post that he still doesn't know. Are you planning on telling him anytime soon?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is going to sound completely insensitive but telling my dad would be like walking up to a stranger and telling them. The reaction from either is unimportant to me or how I live my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The only area of my life that I need acceptance from my father is my professional life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I do not have a warm fuzzy personal relationship with my dad. I love him, but I don’t share my everyday life with him the way I do with my brother, my mom, and my friends. If, but hopefully when, I met someone important enough to bring to Christmas dinner I will tell him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“And I forgot to mention how hilarious it was that your brother's first question was, "is your girlfriend hot?"!!! So very typical, I was cracking up.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s my brother! I love his sense of humor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“i'm curious to know how your mom took the news too. from what you have said on here, i take it that she is religious. has it been an issue for her because of that?”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I will come back to this question once I have told my whole story. Until then, here is a message from my wonderful mother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Delete Comment" href="https://www.blogger.com/delete-comment.g?blogID=2632650583684292517&amp;amp;postID=8274946904872841191"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If I may, I would like to answer the quesstion about how Tammy's mom took the news, since I am Tammy's mom. LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Before Tammy even said the words to me, I had an idea, in my head, that Tammy was struggling with issues regarding relationships. When I found out for sure what the struggle was, I was hurt and confused. Not because of the news, but because of the fact that she didn't feel that she could share the news with me long before she did. My daughter and I are very close and always have been, so I was baffled at why she didn't feel comfortable to just tell me. Tammy is an amazing young lady. She is beautiful, intelligent, funny, and a truly devoted and loving mother to her son. The fact that she has different sexual preferences than me has absolutely no baring on my love for her. My daughter is the same person that I have laughed with, cried with and loved her entire life, and that will never change. The only thing that I would change if I had the power to, is the close-mindedness of some of the people that she will, unfortunately, encounter because of her bravery in revealing her true self. I love my daughter to the end of time! Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Remember when you were blogging about a big decision you had and I thought I knew what you were talking about? Then you said it was about moving to CA and changing your job and I was thinking how I was losing my touch guessing at these things because I was certain that you were trying to decide on a relationship. OK, then. Maybe I'm not completely losing my brilliant deductive reasoning--maybe you were just stalling? haha. Am I right?”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Delete Comment" href="https://www.blogger.com/delete-comment.g?blogID=2632650583684292517&amp;amp;postID=5122707519021301270"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;YES! You were right as was Cyndi. All will be revealed in the rest of my story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Rather than teach tolerance, let's all teach acceptance! To me there is a big difference.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mark, thank you for correcting a very erroneous use of words, you are correct…tolerance &amp;amp; acceptance are very different. I am doing my best to teach my son acceptance and love. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additional questions will continue to be posted and answered in this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-8388735687806269702?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-you-ask-i-will-tell.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-4557928229787651286</guid><pubDate>Wed, 30 Sep 2009 04:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-29T21:49:04.441-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>Pocket Full of Sunshine...(Yep, that's me)</title><description>If ever there was a day that I have shined the brightest, been the happiest, had not a care in the world. Today was that day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of my life I have felt as though I was suffocating. The worst part is I never knew why. Then once I figured it all out it was as if I was being handed an oxygen mask that it was just out of reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I woke up to a whole new world. The pressure in my chest in gone, the weight on my shoulders lifted, the clouds have cleared. I CAN BREATHE! As if a freight truck has just been lifted from my chest - literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea how liberating it would feel to finally tell the people in my life this secret that has been eating at me for so many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have a long way to go. There are many people in my everyday life that don't know including my dear ole' dad. The most important part is the people in my life that mean the most to me have showed me unconditional love that I was not sure really existed. What else could I possibly ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not concerned about what anyone else thinks. Although, I am painfully aware of that fact that I will have to watch myself with certain people. But, I do not feel the need to start waving my rainbow colored flag nor will this blog become solely about my new found freedom. I am defined by more than my preferences in partners. I am still a PTSO mother who works hard to maintain balance between work &amp;amp; home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there are many more stories left to be told. The pain I have expressed in previous posts regarding a recent relationship can now be revealed. A process I am hoping will help further along my journey even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is, I am in puberty all over again. I have no idea how to live my new life. I have been living in suburbia surrounded by my wonderful hetero married friends. I don't seek to change that status but I would like a partner by my side that shares my same conventional theories on raising children, volunteering in the community, and deep sense of family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am too old for the bar scene and too young to throw in the towel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there will be struggles in the future. So far I have been very lucky to have received so much support from those I have told. Friends laughing stating they knew long before I did (thanks for the heads up pals!) and family that loves me no matter what. I realize not everyone will understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have concerns for my son. I have never hid anything from him. He is very observant and knows about my relationship (there has only been one -that post is coming). I talked with him very openly about my feelings for my partner. He understands the relationship was built on love. He saw and felt the love deeply. Love is never a bad thing. I have not introduced the negativity he may be faced with in the future however I have guided him to understand tolerance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still a private person who does not feel the need to walk the streets declaring my sexual preferences or even discussing my relationships (blog excluded...this is my tell all place). There is a reason it is called a private life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for today, my life if lighter. Today, I have a pocket full of sunshine that I wish to share with the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHEERS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I open to questions - anonymously or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-4557928229787651286?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/pocket-full-of-sunshineyep-thats-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-1185450262288011882</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 Sep 2009 03:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-28T22:05:17.947-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Brothers</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Siblings</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>There is something I need to tell you.</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(this is the blog post you have been waiting for. this is it...all on the line. i wrote this letter to my brother although it encompasses what i need to say to a lot of people. his response follows.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Big Brother –&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something I need to tell you. I have tried many times but somehow the words get lodged in my throat unable to escape my lips. Please trust me when I say my hesitancy is based upon my own insecurities and not my lack of trust in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of our lifetimes our relationship has flourished to a place that I proudly call you more than just a brother but a friend. The words which I am about to release are difficult. I hope you understand why I am sharing them with you in this manner. Although we are close we seem to have difficulties sharing verbally. A trait I am sure we can blame on our parents (just kidding mom).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where my story begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was thirteen I came across a small hand blown glass vase with a red rose. It was no bigger than my two fingers put together. I am not sure where it came from but I had decided I was going to give it to my best friend. Mom saw it and asked me what it was for I told her I had planned to give it to my friend. She looked at me oddly stating “you don’t give gifts that like to your girl friends”. I never really understood why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During a time when our lives were so tightly wound in our own little circles consisting of no more than visits at the Thanksgiving Day table or wrapped around the Christmas tree, somewhere in the range of 25 years old, I began to realize my feelings for a friend were far more than what it seemed they should be. It took me several years to understand those feelings and finally admit to myself the possibility of what those feelings meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the confusion of trying to understand myself I engaged in an activity which resulted in my pregnancy with Jack. You know the back story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the moment I nervously sat in front of you and the rest of the family shaking as I revealed the news of the soon to be new addition to our family, my life was turned upside down. Everything I did from that day forward was focused on building a stable life for Jack. I pushed any personal struggles I was having aside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I settled in to the life of motherhood, I found it more and more difficult to ignore the overwhelming questions looming in my heart and mind. I have since validated my feelings accepting myself for who I am. I am gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continue to struggle but in a different way. My struggle now is learning how to live my true life and introduce the real me to the people who have known me for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My journey has been incredibly lonely, most of time I feel completely alone because I have been unable to reveal my true self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fear is losing the relationship we have fostered through thick and thin even though I am the same sister I have always been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the same sister that used to tag along with you &amp;amp; your friends to break in to the ASU stadium running the field making our own touchdowns. I am the same sister that sat next to you with our feet dangling in the pool attempting to console you when your first marriage dissolved. I am the same sister that wants to belly up to bar with you to shoot the shit about the things in life that worry us the most. I am the same sister that needs you as a brother and a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brother, I have been meaning to tell you this something for a long long time. At 35, I have finally decided to start living my life – my true life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed…the same sister I have always been. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;from big brother...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Is your girlfriend hot? LMAO!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding… You don’t have anything to worry about with our relationship or Nikki (she’s standing behind me). I’ve learned overtime that we have to do what makes us happy, not what we think will make other people happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t see you differently at all and I hope that some of the stress and “depression” you have been feeling is or will be let off your shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Editors Note: THIS PARAGRAPH OMITTED BECAUSE IT REVEALS INFORMATION WHICH IS NOT MINE TO SHARE- BUT DOES NOT ALTER THE MORAL OF THIS STORY***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I think you’re doing a great job in building that stability for Jack and you’ve done very well in business too. I’m older but have a lot of respect for you. None of my respect for you is lost in anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are as good a friend as I’ve got and wouldn’t let something like your preference interfere with our friendship or brother – sister relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. Nikki loves you and you have nothing to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I thought you would have posted this by now and I would have just put my response on there…)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;***&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never underestimate the power of family. Regardless of what happens from this point forward - I know I have good friends &amp;amp; an amazing family behind me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(if you are among the many learning this tid-bit of a fact for the first time. please insert your name &amp;amp; special moments we have shared in the appropriate places. i hope that you can see i am the same me but now i am taking a risk to allow happiness in my life.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-1185450262288011882?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-is-something-i-need-to-tell-you.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>9</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-176810156953351173</guid><pubDate>Thu, 24 Sep 2009 04:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-24T08:14:17.729-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>The Shack</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Religion</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>God</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>WM Paul Young</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>The Missy Project</category><title>God Is A Verb.</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Verbs such as confessing, repenting, living, loving, responding, growing, reaping, changing, sowing, running, dancing, singing, and on and on."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sarayu (an excerpt from The Shack, WM Paul Young)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a control freak. This simple fact hinders my ability to read a book from cover to cover despite my love for them. Before I begin a book I need to know what is going to happen. I have even been known to read the last couple of pages of a book just so I know what to expect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I sat down to start reading &lt;a href="http://www.theshackbook.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Shack, WM Paul Young,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had no expectations other than my mom had told me it was about a man's journey with God. My thought was UGGG! Midway through the foreword I knew I was going to be hooked. The author was presenting the story as non-fiction although it was clearly written as fiction. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I began sharing with people that I was reading this book I received comments of mixed reviews. Some said the first couple of chapters were slow, others said they loved it, and others clearly could not get beyond their own beliefs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the moment I picked up the book I struggled to put it down. I read more than half the book in the first night. Then the remainder in the next couple of days. It is difficult to express how much this story touched my heart without giving away the plot but I will try. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long I have struggled with questions about the "theory" of god. The judgemental "god" that places rule upon rule upon us and demands perfection. The essence of this book is everything I want to believe in my God. I cried, but mostly sobbed, throughout most of this book. It was as if the author extracted the doubts from my mind punching holes in each and every one of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is not judging us. We are judging each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God does not demand us all to be the same. We demand this of ourselves. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God does not hold grudges. We do not allow ourselves to forgive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God does not hold expectations of us. We demand expectations of ourselves &amp;amp; others. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, never mind- let me speak for myself, I need to stop feeling as though I can control the outcome of my future. On a day to day basis, yes, I control my simplistic actions. What I don't control is how the world around me will respond or what my greater plan in life shall be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a mother this book was incredibly difficult to read. What I learned is how pure and freeing forgiveness can be. I must stop blaming and worrying about how the absence of my sons father will affect him as he grows. I must forgive, focusing my efforts instead on all that I have to offer him. I can not control how my father chooses to view me but I can learn to appreciate myself not being blinded by his blurry vision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must learn to relinquish the false sense of control I think have over my life and allow my faith to guide me in the direction I belong. I need to learn to listen to my heart allowing my inner thoughts to push forward. I need to learn to trust in people and allow relationships, of all types, in to my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey, there is no easy answer that will take your pain away. Believe me, if I had one, I'd use it now. I have no magic wand to wave over you and make it all better. Life takes a bit of time and a lot or relationship"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Papa (excerpt from The Shack, WM Paul Young)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe when I stop trying to control my fate, my faith will take control, and my life we seem a lot clearer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few pages of this book reference The Missy Project. This project is about sharing this book. My mom shared this book with me and now I will share the book with someone I think could use the story in their life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you will read the book. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-176810156953351173?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/god-is-verb.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-6956859984438657846</guid><pubDate>Tue, 22 Sep 2009 03:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-23T13:53:15.847-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>The Shack</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Religion</category><title>Losing My Religion</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am not certain there was ever a time that I "believed" in God. I followed in my mother's foot steps embracing her belief system not because I "believed" but because I was too young to establish my own belief system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My earliest memory of religion was when I was in the 2nd or 3rd grade - I am not completely certain. My parents were divorced. My mom, brother, and I lived in a two bedroom apartment near ASU. Sunday mornings, my brother and I would shuffle down to the parking lot to huddle with the other kids from the neighborhood. Before too long an old school bus painted all white would tumble down the road stopping with a jerk and loud squeak of the breaks. All us kids, never a parent in sight, would load up on to the bus. By chance or on purpose I always seemed sit directly behind this kid that tried his best to imitate Adam Ant. My memory is horrible but I can remember his face, purple hair, and red jacket like I was sitting behind him today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The bus did not go far, simply pulling around the apartments parking lot gathering all the kids. We made one left turn and then another. The breaks screeched once again the doors rattled open then we all scurried off the bus into the little white chapel. The congregation was primarily us kids and perhaps a few elderly. I have no idea how long the sermon lasted although I do recall being baptised or something similar. I stood before all the eyes of my peers accepting the Lord in to my life. I was unaware of how odd this was back then but now I can't imagine this happening without parental approval. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The sermon would conclude and one by one we would line up to receive a clear plastic bag filled with stale breads and donuts. We never rode the bus home always walking through an unfinished residential development holding on tight to the treats we were given. Upon arriving home we would present our bags to my mom proud that we could contribute.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can remember a time that I believed in miracles.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There was no explanation other than a miracle from God that could have protected the lives of my mother, brother, and I as our car lost control spinning furiously across three lanes of highway traffic&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;stopping on the other side without even a scratch from another car.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And, the times when there was no money in the bank or food in the refrigerator yet my mom could make a meal fit for a king. Yes, there was a time I believed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;As the years passed I grew more cynical. I found it hard to believe the stories I was being told from the bible. I found it hard to accept the continual holding out of the hand asking for money. I could not believe in a God that had such intolerance for differences in people. No one could provide a clear answer for why there are so many different interpretations of the same book. When I questioned the reality of the stories the most anyone could offer was "I have faith" the stories are true. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;In my twenties I began exploring Buddhism. The teachings of living modestly, truthfully, and giving respect to yourself &amp;amp; others was far more realistic to me. Finding inner peace without demand of others to feel the same way was far more peaceful. The theory of receiving back the karmic energy that I was putting out was tangible to me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As I roll over my mid-thirties preparing for another birthday soon I find myself asking more questions. I find that without my conscience focus "god" is creating more of a presence in my mind. I am wondering more and more if &lt;a href="http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/is-god-peaking-at-me-through-trees.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;God is peeking at me through the trees&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And then, one day my mother gave me this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384767200783042274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SrqJPUjZBuI/AAAAAAAAAis/PVvEzB1P6zQ/s400/DSC02244.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When she told me she had a book "I MUST READ" and it was about a man's journey with God she clearly heard me sigh on the other end of the phone line. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"MOM - please don't push..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"No this is different - please read it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Oh alright"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I sat down to read the book and....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(be back soon)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-6956859984438657846?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/losing-my-religion.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SrqJPUjZBuI/AAAAAAAAAis/PVvEzB1P6zQ/s72-c/DSC02244.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-2069895136582484615</guid><pubDate>Mon, 21 Sep 2009 03:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-20T22:55:14.984-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>schedules</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Distressed Property Real Estate</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>golf</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Arizona 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>reading</category><title>Do You Hear That?</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My eyes are struggling for the strength to stay open, my body is fatigued, and my mind is like mush. At this very moment I am simply grateful for the quite space that surrounds me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This past week had me scrambling. The perfect storm of events - business - personal - emotional. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My work week was a flurry with preparations for an upcoming class having to ask how high every time pops asked me to jump. Plus, lucky enough to be handling several loan closings and trying to keep up with my real estate clients. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally I was working on the final details for my teams annual golf tourney &amp;amp; party on Saturday to raise money for the Arizona 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk.. Tempers flared and patience was tested as four strong willed women attempted to do things their own way. All the while several PTSO emails went unopened and unanswered. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night was flurry of activity as I worked to complete each of my tasks for the next day. Diligently I checked each item off my list. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Amongst all this activity one of my clients called asking to view a couple of properties sometime during the weekend. In this economy, when I client asks to view two homes valued between $800,000 and $1,000,000...you DON'T say no! Saturday was out of the question. So I added them to my schedule for Sunday which now consisted of two clients &amp;amp; 6 property showings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Emotionally. **SIGH**. Thursday night I drafted my next most dramatic blog post. This will be the blog post that will create either a mass exodus of readers, increased hate "comments", or hopefully shed a small amount of light on some of the turmoil I have been caring around. The post is written waiting in the que with several other shy posts afraid to make their debut. Before I can hit the magical button allowing the words to escape through cyberspace I must, MUST share it with one very important person. Fear is all that stands between my words and your eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Push it all aside there is a party to attend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saturday morning arrives in flash. The truck is packed. The kiddo in safe hands for the day. Off we go! The days starts off rocky as more strong willed egos bump in to each other. The details are ironed out - the golfers are situated - wallets are falling open to support the cause. A second blow to the morning comes when we hear the news that a dear friends 10 year old nephew had lost his battle with Leukemia earlier in the morning. A breath taking moment pulls everything in to perspective. Regardless of egos we are working toward a cure for cancer. All cancers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day progresses in to the early evening. Sweaty bodies with smiling faces fill the room. The mic in my hand the room is now mine. I AM ALIVE! Laughter and cheers flow from my crowd feeding my wit. The band kicks in jamming the night away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sunday morning my body is aching my mind not quite clear. I rise earlier than desired unable to find sleep once again. My son still away, I laid silently in bed watching the frequent rotation of the ceiling fan hypnotizing me with my own thoughts. Wondering aimlessly around the house feeling every painful step in my swollen feet. The light sound of my phone notifies me by text message that my morning appointment is canceled. A feeling of disappointment - I could really use this sale - then a sigh of relief I plop down on the couch to read the final pages of my book. I am satisfied with the tears created by the emotional ending however this morning may have been more appropriate for the nonsense in my US magazine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Still to early to function appropriately. I stand at my back window staring down the mess of a tree that is slowly creating chaos in my backyard. Not today. Not this morning. Instead, I wipe the sleep from my eyes and head out to pick up donuts for my brother, sister in-law &amp;amp; the boys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We swapped stories of the evening until finally I had to collect myself for my afternoon appointment. Success. We will write a contract. A brief dinner with the family then one last boobie tourney errand then to the grocery store. Bath time - book time - bed time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you hear that? It's silence!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-2069895136582484615?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/do-you-hear-that.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-4683659625314623102</guid><pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2009 08:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-15T16:11:35.801-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Fathers</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Dad</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Family</category><title>Fathers be Good to Your Daughters</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's 1 am, I know this is a shocker, but I can't sleep. Today was an exhausting day. By the time I put my son to bed I sat on the couch closed my eyes then suddenly it was midnight. Now I can't seem to shut my brain down to get back to sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stressed out about many things, money being at the top of the list. I received a call today from the real estate company I interviewed with a couple of weeks ago. The staffing manager is eager to have me come on board. She understands the tangled web I weave with my father. She also works with her father as he is the broker of the agency she wants me to join. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the time I was very young I always received encouragement from my mother. Although I watched her struggle as a single mother there was never a time that I felt less fortunate than any other kid. Most importantly, I never felt as though there was anything I could not do in life. I always had a plan for myself. I went to college. Then grad school. My desire was to work in advertising/marketing. Prior to making the move to work with my father I was the director of corporate marketing for a local advertising agency which catered to real estate professionals. I loved my career. I enjoyed the challenges of my work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up my father was not around much. He choose his career over a relationship with his children. Once I came of age to really understand the decisions he had made over his lifetime and the effects that had on my mother I grew incredibly bitter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;At one point, I shut him out of my life for nearly two years. Then as quickly as I shut him off I began to open up once again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to joining the business our relationship consisted of infrequent dinner connections and holiday visits. It was not uncommon to go three or four months without speaking or seeing him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother had a very different relationship with my father. He, unfortunately, was let down time and time again by empty promises my father dangled in front him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I had my son, I felt the need to be closer to my father. This need drove my decision to join the family business. I saw an opportunity to work with my father all the while building a future for my son. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December will be seven years that I have worked with my father. I feel more let down, beat down, smothered, and suffocated than I have in my entire life. It seems the years of encouragement my mother offered has been crushed by the heavy hand of my father. It seems as though he is determined to hold me down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I wrote about my conversations with him regarding branching out. I allowed him to sell me the dream of owning ocean front property in the middle of the desert. Even though I knew the promises were as empty as the ones presented to my brother as a child, I held on unwillingly to allow myself to let him down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week he was scheduled to be out of town. In his absence, he asked me to give a presentation to a large mortgage company which we landed a contract with to provide education their over 100 loan officers. Last week we had a conference call with the owner of the company to let him know I would be giving the presentation. During this call my father proclaimed that if necessary he could conference call in, just in case. At that moment, I felt about two feet tall. He demonstrated a lack of confidence not only in front of me but in front of the client. The client confirmed my thoughts by nearly laughing then saying he was certain I would be more than capable to handle the presentation. As soon as we hung up the phone, I clearly and calmly told my father that he just made me look like a complete asshole. He didn't get the point. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning upon arriving at the office I learn that my father's business trip had been canceled. When I questioned him about the presentation, he quickly let me know that he would plan to attend and that I could still go just to "see". Excuse me, but what the fuck? So I can "see" what? I am a trained instructor. I am a fantastic public speaker. I am a sales person. I am more than capable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day, I find out that during my fathers upcoming month long consulting assignment out of the country he is handing over the reins of the school to someone outside our company. Excuse me, but what the fuck? Not only has he ignored my request to teach some of the classes but now he is relying on someone not related to any of our companies. COME ON!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am certain my fathers actions and decisions are not based on my capabilities - clearly I have demonstrated my abilities. I built a marketing company from ground up (unfortunately the market has left the company stagnant), I have planned events, meetings, and tradeshows both for the public and private groups. I obtained my mortgage brokers license within 3 years of entering the business passing the test with a 97 percent. I have taught several mortgage &amp;amp; real estate related courses. I have my real estate license - passing the test with a 100%. I have clearly demonstrated my knowledge of the industry. So, excuse me, but what the fuck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I allowing myself to be held down? Why do I continue to allow my father, of all people, to make me feel less than worthy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse me, but what the fuck!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go to bed now. I have a presentation to "see" in the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Dear youknowwhoyouare: I realize you think that I can not see the back door in which you are entering my blog, but I can see. I realize you think I don't know why you are using that particular back door, but I do realize. The knife has already been inserted in to my chest QUIT TWISTING IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-4683659625314623102?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/fathers-be-good-to-your-daughters.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>10</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-8833701071814705626</guid><pubDate>Sun, 13 Sep 2009 05:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-12T23:41:31.203-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>12 of 12</category><title>12 of 12 - September</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is my September 12 of 12. Not familiar? The 12 of 12 is photo project started by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://chaddarnell.typepad.com/runchadrun2/2009/09/12-of-12-iv-september-2009.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Chad Darnell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; in which you document your day via 12 photos on the 12th of every month. Check out my edition and then be sure to check out &lt;a href="http://chaddarnell.typepad.com/runchadrun2/2009/09/12-of-12-iv-september-2009.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Chads blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;to see submissions from around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;7:00 am - An unexpected great nights sleep had me awake an hour before my son. I decided to take advantage of the quite time to knock out a few more pages of the book I am reading. LOVING IT! I highly recommend the book however I have found that people who are dead set in their beliefs about who god is tend to not enjoy the book as much.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380834430277241122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyQZ8vdySI/AAAAAAAAAig/PRc3jAqITCI/s400/DSC02244.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9:00 am - Starting off the day with a morning workout. The space right next door is a bar - it was closed otherwise I would have walked right by the gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380833956114700162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 381px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyP-WWTl4I/AAAAAAAAAiY/Oj0idPHvdD4/s400/DSC02212.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9:30 am - My trainer told me this exercise will prep my feet for the 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk. Something about agility? Whatever...it made me sweat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380833539402084706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 334px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyPmF-RsWI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/RQGXv9jgZJo/s400/DSC02214.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;12:30 pm - We headed over to my brother &amp;amp; sister in laws place to watch my nephew while they ran out for an appointment. My son is reading my nephew the books he brought him from his school book fair. These two enjoy each other SOOOO much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380832348585488402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyOgx1ecBI/AAAAAAAAAiA/BC13inSCtNo/s400/DSC02220.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:00 pm - My son is learning about pay backs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380832081963862002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyORQl7R_I/AAAAAAAAAh4/etCkJuv1CVE/s400/DSC02224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:30 pm - The boys took a break from wrestling around and decided to play photographer. This is my sons masterpiece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380831558888382578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyNyz_A4HI/AAAAAAAAAhw/qkNBKRz_Ghg/s400/DSC02225.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3:30 pm - After leaving my brothers place we headed to my friends house to finish up various tasks for our fundraiser golf tourney for the 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk to benefit the Susan G. Komen foundation. Player gift bags - done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380830667225244386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyM-6R9IuI/AAAAAAAAAhg/sb4AXHKHtOk/s400/DSC02235.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:00 pm - Ok, now to start working on the tee box signs, but first a beverage. Not my favorite beer of choice but it will do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380831111854140210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyNYypvqzI/AAAAAAAAAho/QAS-iW-iEJY/s400/DSC02237.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4:30 pm - Taking a look at our unfinished first sign. We had to see how they looked in the sun light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380830043871166706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyMaoGwwPI/AAAAAAAAAhY/N_08DUdtmMg/s400/DSC02236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7:30 pm - Somehow I was able to take charge of the design work so I did not have to sit on the floor. This is my partner in crime doing the assembly. We do as much as we can on our own so more money goes toward the cause.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380829348570666914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyLyJ6NF6I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/f9PuFLPdmzs/s400/DSC02238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;8:30 pm - Juno the crazy dog was ready for bed, but we still had more work to do. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380828895780858850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyLXzIs6-I/AAAAAAAAAhI/QmV0370ej1U/s400/DSC02240.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10:20 pm - finally home this picture says it all. Good night!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380827905577683154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyKeKV3iNI/AAAAAAAAAg4/zBeptI9lSzY/s400/DSC02241.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;See you next month!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-8833701071814705626?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/12-of-12-september.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SqyQZ8vdySI/AAAAAAAAAig/PRc3jAqITCI/s72-c/DSC02244.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-1904935225953080616</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Sep 2009 23:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-11T17:32:23.613-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Depression</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>Depression, Drugs, Therapy...Need I Say More?</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ten minutes staring at the blank screen debating whether or not this post should be aired for the public to see. Another 5 minutes watching the mouse prompt blink at me after each word is typed. My fingers forcefully hitting the back space button in attempt to wipe out what I have already written. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Write, erase, rephrase. Write, erase, rephrase. Write, erase, rephrase. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It doesn't seem to matter how many times I repeat the process there is no way to hide what needs to be said. What needs to be said not for your sake but for mine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have come to acknowledge, or more so, accept that I am struggling with depression. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is not a new revelation for me rather something which has been present in my life for awhile. I am beginning to realize that it is not the situations in my life which is causing the depression it is the depression which is causing my situations. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not the type of depressed played out dramatically on the various anti-depression commercials. Consider me a functioning depressionist (yes, that is a made up word). Most of the time I am content, happy, and able to enjoy myself. I laugh frequently enjoying those around me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those other times, I am able to find my happy face hanging in my closet which I pull over my face the same way I put on my best outfit for an evening out on the town. Those closest to me may certainly recognize a possible shift in my mood but nothing so drastic it can't be explained away by exhaustion or simply a bad mood. I have never found myself debilitated to a point I can not function, although I do go through bouts of withdrawals from social functions and could easily sleep a day away during any particular given emotional struggle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until recently, I would have considered myself to be reacting to the various annoyances in my life. But now, I realize it is the depression creating the annoyances. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run from my depression well. Typically taking frequent vacations or indulging in events which will keep me preoccupied with excitement. The exhilaration of something different allows me to escape the "becauses". I demand instant gratification which explains my love hate relationship with food and constant battle with my weight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overwhelm myself with activity as to never be free to just sit and face the mirror. I am involved with more than I should be for not always for the right reasons. My emotions can be easily swayed and often hard to control if I allow my thoughts to wonder down the path of release. My moods can be edgy - intolerable to even myself sometimes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tthe last few years, I have allowed my selfish needs to consume my better judgement and the morality I have always held other accountable. I found temporary happiness in the escape that money provides and the indulgence of sins I am not yet prepared to discuss. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am unsure of the causes of this depression. I love my son, my family, my friends, and the greater part of my life. There are pieces I would choose to change. I swear that I will, but those changes will only bring more challenges. I am certainly not a harm to myself or anyone else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not interested in the relief that prescribed drugs may bring. I have seen these drugs assist others in my life but happiness in a bottle is not for me - please believe I say this without judgement. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therapy is an option the best possible one, I would think. If only I could get past insecurities of having to say out loud to another living person the thoughts which rattle around in my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The public would likely never know my struggle. Most of the time I barely realize it myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I continue moving I am okay. I am better with exercise and healthy eating although once off track, as I am now, I find it hard to find the road again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now comes the uncomfortable part of the conversation where silence falls as I wait for the reaction. Nervously tapping my finger on the keyboard dangerously close the publish button. Take a deep, this one was for me not for you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheers - with a tall ice cold glass of life and a shot of enlightenment!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-1904935225953080616?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/depression-drugs-therapyneed-i-say-more.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-1810876999211979790</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Sep 2009 00:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-10T17:07:18.691-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Blogging</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>Because Sharing is Good.</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Not much more to be said. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.peacelovefree.com/2009/09/10/you/"&gt;PEACE.LOVE.FREE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-1810876999211979790?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/because-sharing-is-good.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-2271025217260076806</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2009 21:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-09T14:11:48.556-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>books</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>reading</category><title>Good Stuff Coming!</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Don't give up on me. Keep coming back - I have not faded away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have merely lost myself in a fantasic book the last few nights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A full book report, analysis &amp;amp; dialog is coming soon!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read the majority of the book in just a few hours over the last couple of nights. I am hoping to finish it up tonight. It is not a long read but difficult in the sense that it leaves me literally sobbing because it touches so close to home. Plus, the message is so complex I have had to reread certain parts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hang in there and come back soon. Hopefully tomorrow I will have more to share.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CAN'T WAIT TO SHARE MORE!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-2271025217260076806?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-stuff-coming.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-1830905287627317296</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2009 19:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-04T12:37:23.695-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Religion</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>politics</category><title>This Is Why I Am Crazy Most of the Time.</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It’s Friday, grab a cocktail and join me for a nice (remember to be nice) adult conversation about politics. Yes, I have decided to go down that road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why now, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The direction in which our new administration is headed has stirred so many intense emotions I am amazed. It is nearly impossible to have a calm rational discussion about politics. The most recent issue which is swirling around Facebook and within my social circle of friends with children is the Presidential speech scheduled to air in the schools on September 8th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, a permission slip was sent home notifying me that my son’s class would be watching the President’s speech and I needed to specify if I wanted him to participate or not. My more conservative friends are adamant about not allowing their child to hear the speech. So much so they will pull their child from school for the entire day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The permission slip that was sent home stated:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama will "challenge students to work hard, set educational goals, and take responsibility for their learning so they can compete in the global economy for good jobs and live rewarding &amp;amp; productive lives"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, I would have liked to preview the speech first, my personal opinion is that I don’t see the harm this could cause. Regardless of your political beliefs Obama holds the highest position our country appoints. If he intends to send a message to our children about goal setting and the importance of focusing on education what harm can come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see this as an opportunity to have an open discussion with my son about politics, importance of education, goal setting, and determination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend made a post on Facebook strongly opposing having his child participate. A comment was made that church &amp;amp; state should be kept separate. I in turn asked if now was the time that we could stop using the word “God” in the Pledge of Allegiance. I made this statement to make a point not because I believe the pledge of allegiance should be changed or banned from our schools (and I should let you know I do not believe in God). I made this statement because it seems to me that closing your child off from what is happening in the world is as irrational as demanding the Pledge of Allegiance be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has the strong opposition to Obama’s politics caused us to lose site of the principals in which this country was founded?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my political views. Perhaps now you will understand why I am crazy most of the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in equal rights.&lt;br /&gt;For everyone and every relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe abortion is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;But no one should dictate the choices a woman (or man) makes regarding her (his) body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in capitalism.&lt;br /&gt;But at what point do we, as a society, start caring &amp;amp; taking responsibility for the well being of others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with the platform of the conservative party in keeping big government out of business. I wish they played by the small rules when it comes to interfering in our personal lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with the platform of the liberal party that we need to help those less fortunate than ourselves. I wish they did more to teach those individuals how to fish rather than just handing them a plate of grill salmon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize there is no possible way to satisfy the needs of every person living in this country. But, what lessons are we teaching our children and what message are we sending when we tell them they can not even hear what the other side has to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you will comment.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you will be respectful of what others have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a safe zone where every opinion is heard with an open mind and open heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-1830905287627317296?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-is-why-i-am-crazy-most-of-time.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>9</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-2208150001437395190</guid><pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2009 20:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-02T21:32:02.420-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Random Thoughts</category><title>A Few Random Thoughts &amp; Updates</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I feel as though my life as been boring and uneventful lately. Nothing new happening (good or bad), just simply rambling along in life attempting to maneuver my way through this economy without losing my sanity. I will attempt to fill in some of the blanks although I apologize in advance for skipping from one topic to the next without any form of fluidity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;For those wondering, my last post was in reference to a certain group I belong too. Long story short, it should not be so difficult to do good things for good reasons. I hope that I will always recognize people positivity for their efforts to go good for others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;An impromptu conversation with my father today caused me to do some serious thinking. Since our &lt;a href="http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-businessman.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;chat a month ago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, he has been diligently attempting to wrap me up in his revenue generating plans. His focus right now is education. Arizona has finally adopted mandatory education and licensing for loan officers. DUH! We have a mortgage &amp;amp; real estate school which has been approved to provide the necessary classes. My father decided the best way to keep me entertained was to give me the grunt work. I hate busy work. I am a sales &amp;amp; marketing person. It is pain staking for me to have to focus on the details of scheduling. I voiced that I would like to teach a few of the courses. That went no where which surprised me since I am a certified real estate instructor and have always received positive reviews from my classes. But, he signs the paychecks so I do what is asked of me then quickly divert to my regular scheduled program of selling loans &amp;amp; homes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Today he approached me about gearing up to start a new real estate company. The company we have now is a licensed broker, however, it was developed as a trustee company for handling foreclosures. The name is horrible for retail real estate purposes. He asked to me start researching various website database platforms which will help us capture and manage leads (something I expressed the other companies I was researching had to offer). He also explained that he wanted me to manage this new company and agents. This is what I want. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So, why then did I meet his excitement with doubt? I immediately to the pessimistic approach. He, like any good salesman, met my objections with options. He asked me what I wanted. I told him. He replied "OK", let's do it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This conversation snowballed in to many different conversations which lead me to reveal just how tight things are for me right now. He had no idea and there is no reason he would it is certainly not something I feel the need to discuss know it is tight for everyone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;He is offering me an opportunity to build and do something I want to do anyway. So again I ask, Why? Why am I immediately meeting his attempt to satisfy my needs with negativity? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It was not until I stepped out for lunch that all of this sunk in and dawned on me. Perhaps my hesitancy is based on past experience and let down. I am not sure. For now, I will take advantage of an opportunity. I will choose to be positive. I will make lemonade out of lemons. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I MUST MUST MUST find my waist line again. The misery which trickles down from my lack of motivation is killing my self esteem. I hoping this will help kick my butt in to gear...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376984563489290274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/Sp7i-NWJuCI/AAAAAAAAAgw/L4GUtQy2lR0/s400/10432_1047412203823_1781233194_103686_5861675_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It may be a little hard to read, however, this challenge requires a team of 3. Me, my mom, and a long time pal will work together to hopefully be the winners of the $1,500 pot. Most importantly, I am hoping the push and desire to not let down two people very close to men will help me find my way back to regular exercise. Something has to click in my head....hopefully this will help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I posted &lt;a href="http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/knock-knockits-your-cyber-stalker.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;this story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; not long ago. In case you are curious, I did finally email the blogger. She was so nice and welcoming allowing me to divulge me story. It was nice to share with someone who knew what I was feeling. I have the secret password now and will enjoy keeping up with her journey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;My sister posted &lt;a href="http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_kpbsri0ldV1qzaf17o1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&amp;amp;Expires=1252038692&amp;amp;Signature=zX%2B5eK1YNLwdRAZXsU%2BKkI43Lto%3D"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;this on her blog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...I love it...I thought I would share.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Is it weird to find comfort in blogger friendships even though you may never meet or speak the people that you have grown to like so much?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I talked with my sister last night. She just returned from an internship in California. This is her Senior year in college. We talked about what she will do after she graduates. I am so proud of her because she is not afraid to run after what she wants in life. And, well, she is my best chance at meeting someone famous one day! LOL! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wish I would have had the courage to move away. I hope I can encourage and support my son to fly &amp;amp; be free when the time is right for him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This is a fun video my friend put together for our fundraiser golf tourney &amp;amp; party we are hosting to raise money for the 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk. It's cute, but then again I may be a little biased. Turn up the volume and enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s5Ic5yCETAU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s5Ic5yCETAU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The long weekend awaits me....I will enjoy seeing my sister as well as my friends from California. Pool time + Beer + Good Friends + No Work = Happy Me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-2208150001437395190?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/few-random-thoughts-updates.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/Sp7i-NWJuCI/AAAAAAAAAgw/L4GUtQy2lR0/s72-c/10432_1047412203823_1781233194_103686_5861675_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-4287611182024813297</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Aug 2009 20:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-31T13:10:52.235-07:00</atom:updated><title>Tammy? Where's Tammy?</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I feel like I have been at party where everyone is buzzing around me laughing and mingling all the while I am stuck in the corner trapped by the one person everyone tries to avoid because you know if you get sucked in to the vortex you will never escape in time to enjoy the people you really came to the party to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to scream HERE I AM….HERE I AM….somebody yell fire. Give me an excuse to run away. How did I do this to myself? I was nice enough to make eye contact muttering the rhetorical question I should have held inside which unleashed a furry of unwanted stories and drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If ever I wiggle away from this uninteresting self absorbed motor mouth that has me pinned against the wall in the corner of the hallway just out of the sight of those who could rescue me, I will tell you the stories, the drama, the chaos, the bullshit that has been swirling around me this past week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I will keep sipping my now warm beer nodding my head, biting my tongue, fighting back the yawns of boredom and frustration as one story leads to the next in one long run on sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-4287611182024813297?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/tammy-wheres-tammy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-2082396764039725362</guid><pubDate>Mon, 24 Aug 2009 04:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-23T22:56:45.718-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Children</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Life Journey</category><title>Jerry Springer Will Be Calling Soon...</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have told the story of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-he-calls-himself-jack.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sperm donor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. However, like I do with most information having to do with my life I leave out pieces of the story which cut too deep. I hope that by telling the rest of this particular story (although it is not "THE STORY" some of you are waiting) I will draw some much needed support and/or advice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take a journey back in time nearly 8 years ago. One fateful night myself and my best guy friend decided to embark on a night out on the town. We started the evening by sharing each others tasty Cajun meals from a restaurant I never returned too since that night. After dinner we journeyed to our favorite local bar to hear a band play. We danced the night away to the groovy funky reggae tunes of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.azzizzband.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AZZ IZZ Band&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; (Do yourself a favor and click on: Boy Crazy, Girl Crazier). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life changed forever when at the end of the night I decided to not get of the car and go up to my apartment alone. Instead, I accepted an invitation to spend the evening with my friend at the house he was house sitting. The next morning, I believe we were both regretful of what had transpired but we were friends and life went on. Five days after that evening, I received a phone call from my friend. He called to tell me that he was a father. WHAT? Shocked, I listened intently to the story about a night he and an ex-girlfriend spent together on a fluke. Now, BAM he is a dad. Nine months passed and he never mentioned a word of this to anyone. Looking back, I now understand why. He waited to tell anyone until he knew (via DNA testing) that this child was his. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of the month, I was beginning to feel changes in my body. In denial that I could possibly be pregnant, because all precautions had been taken, my pregnancy signals turned in to a big joke. Finally, one of my closest friends had enough and forced me to take a pregnancy test. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the sperm donor decided to not participate in the life of my son I requested the phone number of the mother of his other child. He quickly denied that request stating that she wanted to maintain all communications through him. I know who she is (coincidentally she looks a lot like me), I know how to get in touch with her, we have mutual acquaintances, we work in the same industry, our kids are only 9 months apart, and look like brother &amp;amp; sister. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the time I became pregnant, I have struggled with whether or not to contact her. I am uncertain if she really knows about my son, although I can't imagine how she doesn't know. He is active in his daughters life. I am nervous if I open Pandora's box it could hurt my son unnecessarily. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the wonders of the Internet, I have recently discovered he and his current girlfriend have purchased a home together (ps. This did not take much digging. There is a new website that compiles public information - it is scary). This girlfriend must know because the child support expense would be disclosed on the loan application for the home. He is a master manipulator so I can only imagine what he is telling these other women. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurt for my son. It pains me to think that one day he is going to grow up and learn that he has a sibling (possibly siblings) that his "dad" participated and loved as a part of his life. He will one day question his worth because this loser of person was not man enough to admit to his family he could not keep his dick in his pants. No, I am not blaming him for that night. We were both adults. It takes two to tango. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe the major reason why I want to leave Arizona is so I can escape the situation. The reality is the situation will not go away no matter how far I run. I have two major life challenges which cause me continual stress and sadness. This is on top of that short list. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some ways I feel grateful that the sperm donor is not apart of my sons life because he is bipolar, manipulative, and incredibly egotistical. However, he is also very intelligent, driven, and goal oriented. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I very much believe my son was a miracle in my life. His soul was meant to travel this lifetime with mine. I am not sure how to forgive. I am not sure how to detach from the anger I feel toward this person that has rejected my son. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is difficult not to sob as I release these words. It is so important to me that my son have the best life and that he always feels worthwhile. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;**The phone is ringing, caller Id says it is Jerry Springer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-2082396764039725362?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/jerry-springer-will-be-calling-soon.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-5780132540852439587</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2009 05:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-18T22:54:17.629-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Self Discovery</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Perspective</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Personal Relationships</category><title>Thought Stew...</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Unable to focus on writing a coherent sentence this week due to many things including a cricket that has been taunting me the last few nights. It is silent this evening, which I am internally grateful, so I decided I should try to put together some words for your reading pleasure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is not much to speak of on any one particular topic therefore this shall be my first edition of THOUGHT STEW....a little bit of everything thrown in together to make a yummy dish to fill your belly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been crazy busy at work with new projects that "daddy" is putting together in an effort to keep me entertained. Plus, my real estate activity has picked up some. I guess I put enough positive thoughts in to what I could make of it that some of the good stuff is going to fill up my cup. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I am feeling a bit overwhelmed lately with all my extracurricular activities including planning a back to school bash for my son's school and putting together a fundraiser golf tourney for the AZ 3 Day Walk. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love being busy, especially with fun activities that I enjoy. My all time dream job would be an event planner. This was my career for several years. Why I ever left it I am unsure. Mmmm...maybe that is my second all time dream job. My first would be a Public Speaker. I do love to yap in front of large crowds and quite frankly I am pretty good at working a room. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time you are sitting in your favorite spot for people watching try something different. Don't just monitor the mom jeans creeping a little to high or the toilet paper attempting to escape from the hurried mans shoe. Watch the faces that go by...but this time look a little closer...look deeper in to the persons soul. Take a minute to consider that one out of every ten people (this is not scientific I just picked a random number) has a secret. Sure, everyone has a secret, but hang with me on this one. For just a little longer, hang on to the thought that that person is holding a secret in which they are so afraid to share. This secret will hurt no one. This secret will not affect the daily lives of others. This secret does not violate a single one of the seven deadly sins or any sin for that matter. Yet this secret is holding this person down. Creating conflict and struggle within their life. They feel if they share that secret they will be subject to ridicule, judgement, sideways looks. Is it their issue or "our" issue?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever read someones blog post wishing you had come up with the idea? I do this often, which has made me realize how boring and whinny my own blog has become. I promise to work harder to be more rounded in my emotional outbursts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you find inspiration? Do you believe in signs? Last week I had an encounter with a family member I had not seen in nearly seven years. She does not even realize it but she inspired me. She will not understand why but I feel it is important to drop her line and tell her. I believe my encounter with her is one of many signs that are trying desperately to knock me up the side the head telling me not to be afraid to be who I am. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I need to let more people in to my head and heart. I don't think I give people enough credit under estimating their ability to truly "get me". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Coming to the realization that my attempt at book writing has been slow going I am considering publishing my story in the form of an ebook. For some reason, I feel there will be less pressure to make it "whole" which will allow me to be less frigid trying to make it "perfect".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I hate to wish the days away but I will be glad to see this year end. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;yawn&gt;(YAWN)... hey, I just might put myself to bed early tonight. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? Do you even realize what is on late night television?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-5780132540852439587?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/thought-stew.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-3958269444002088116</guid><pubDate>Fri, 14 Aug 2009 02:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-13T19:56:55.713-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Weight Loss</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>Exercise</category><title>Motivation</title><description>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; This is my trainer....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369638129328969810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoTJbdcL2FI/AAAAAAAAAgo/c0sdli5fa0I/s400/6290_1037771322807_1781233194_82911_7460539_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yes, he is holding himself up horizontal to the floor. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is no funny camera trickery used in this photo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where is my motivation?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Must find my motivation. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There is a fit and trim girl inside screaming to get out.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-3958269444002088116?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/motivation.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoTJbdcL2FI/AAAAAAAAAgo/c0sdli5fa0I/s72-c/6290_1037771322807_1781233194_82911_7460539_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2632650583684292517.post-6932793031666102614</guid><pubDate>Thu, 13 Aug 2009 04:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-12T22:34:57.856-07:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>12 of 12</category><title>August - 12 of 12</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ladies and Gentlemen....it's time once again for the 12 of 12. The 12 of 12 is fun photo journal project created by &lt;a href="http://chaddarnell.typepad.com/runchadrun2/2009/08/12-of-12-iv-august-2009.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chad Darnell&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, documenting the events of your day in the form of 12 photos on the 12th of every month. Check out my submission for the month...then go check out the other &lt;a href="http://chaddarnell.typepad.com/runchadrun2/2009/08/12-of-12-iv-august-2009.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;50 plus submissions from around the world&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Good times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And now, without further a do (or is it ado)....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;8:45 am- Starbucks Perfect Oatmeal...maybe not perfect but it holds me over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369306427946345522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 325px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoObv5f2pDI/AAAAAAAAAgY/hVGokKQKYrY/s400/DSC02140.JPG" border="0" /&gt;9:00 am - This picture is for a special little guy I miss a lot (and his sister too!). This is the spring training facility for the Anaheim Angels. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369305911807619730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoObR2uyspI/AAAAAAAAAgI/Hq1N9La3_xw/s400/DSC02141.JPG" border="0" /&gt;9:10 am - Searching my emails for a clients phone number so I can write off my morning commute. It appears as though my Facebook and Blogger friends were busy last night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369313696927380626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOiXAj-9JI/AAAAAAAAAgg/jTLTDJSafO0/s400/DSC02142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;10:40 am - Completing a property inspection for a deal we are funding. We will lend $28,000.00 USD on this house which has a purchase price of $41,000.00 USD. My average loan size in 2005 was 3.5 million. Now my average loan size is $30,000.00 USD. ugg!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369305583728962466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOa-wivq6I/AAAAAAAAAgA/9OmLpS8I_dw/s400/DSC02144.JPG" border="0" /&gt; 11:10 am - Experiencing a case off the doldrums lately I decided to trade-in my standard clear chapstick for a spicy color....you like? Not so spicy is it? MWAH! MWAH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369305134149709522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOaklusrtI/AAAAAAAAAfw/2MGItRr3A6I/s400/DSC02150.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;11:40 am - Attended a lunch meeting at this building today. I looked up and thought "what a cool shot". It did not turn out as well as I had hoped. The perfect shot would have required me to lay flat on my back...oh and have a better camera. LOL! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369305369275374690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOayRpBnGI/AAAAAAAAAf4/GTehHZkGRfc/s400/DSC02146.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5:45 pm - Picking up kiddo from his after school program. The tooth fairy has visited us lately and will come again soon. That lone front tooth is very wiggly. (Picture is a bit fuzzy sorry - I don't always have a willing model.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369304763513208354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOaPBAEfiI/AAAAAAAAAfo/N_hRPGe4kNY/s400/DSC02152.JPG" border="0" /&gt; 6:10 pm - Exhausted mom = left overs. Pizza for the little guy. Taco salad for mom (with ground chicken breast &amp;amp; black beans...YUM).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369304272707785362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOZycm8EpI/AAAAAAAAAfY/H5NZETTH0lE/s400/DSC02160.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;7:30 pm - Starting my three part to-do list for tomorrow. One list for work, one list for the back to school bash I am planning for my sons school, and one list for a fundraiser golf tournament I am planning to raise money so I can participate in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the3day.org/site/TR/Walk/ArizonaEvent2009?px=1152971&amp;amp;pg=personal&amp;amp;fr_id=1290"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arizona 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. Phew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369304438978696098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOZ8IBA06I/AAAAAAAAAfg/q-kCEfGDKRI/s400/DSC02154.JPG" border="0" /&gt; 7:45 pm - Kiddo requested ice cream for dessert. Yes, I had some too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369303970831495794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 398px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOZg4CBcnI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/GeFfsrCE76o/s400/DSC02163.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;8:30 pm - I spent an hour on the phone with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.saveournationsboobies.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Team Bust Friends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(my 3 Day team) trying to figure out why our golf registration form was not working. All better...get registered peeps! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369303804717983858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOZXNNeaHI/AAAAAAAAAfI/9ymig3pW6l4/s400/DSC02167.JPG" border="0" /&gt;9:30 pm - Trying to put the finishing touches on "The Story". My regular readers will want to pull out their magnifying glasses because I am not sure when I will have the courage to press the go button on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369303547609931618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoOZIPaI32I/AAAAAAAAAfA/EGtOHIiQMLk/s400/DSC02166.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thanks for taking a peek!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't forget to check out the other submissions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cheers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2632650583684292517-6932793031666102614?l=origazgirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://origazgirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/august-12-of-12.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Tammy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IibdKjF2CIg/SoObv5f2pDI/AAAAAAAAAgY/hVGokKQKYrY/s72-c/DSC02140.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></item></channel></rss>